Poetry in Money

One of my all-time-favorite idiot savants (a literature professor at my alma mater) once said, mockingly, that there is “no money in poetry, no poetry in money.” I contested then, and will prove through my writings in this blog, that the latter point especially is false. My style tends to be fairly laconic so don’t expect (or fear) having to sift through Evgeni Onegin. For future reference I’ll label all of my poetry of money posts as pomo.

Sacked Religious

Under the shadow
Of the Silver Seraph's wings
I walk on water
That turns to pinot noir

Jesus was overrated
Said St. Peter
When I bought out Heaven