Filthy Lucre

by Glen Martin Fitch

All I have mined and melted,
minted, stored
I offered you
and yet I can't compete.
Does my attention
leave you cold and bored?
My heart's locked coffer's key
lies at your feet.
I've seen him with you
callous if not cruel
and yet you're thrilled,
no matter what I say.
(Had he a brain
he play you for the fool)
He dumps his problems,
then goes on his way.
I wonder
if you'll ever change your mind.
Today I wonder
more about your taste (and mine!)
I wonder
when and how you'll find out
what an ass he is.
(Am I unkind, my love?)
I wonder why
and with such haste
you gaily shovel up
his stinking waste.


Glen Martin Fitch's picture

Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."

Last updated August 23, 2011