I used to have a desk
I’d throw change on
until it cluttered
the whole thing—
dominating
eating it whole—
with no place to write

it grew and grew
bigger and bigger
larger and larger—
a huge coppersilver monster
with a bad case of the Mondays—
piling up
mountainous
spilling off the sides
in metallic waterfalls

the more coins that congregated
the more worthless it became
so finally
one day
I gathered them all up—
I separated them by value
chip chip chipping away
at the ones stuck to the top
from spilt beer and
wine and liquor
over the years

I rolled them up and
I turned them in for cash
and with that cash
I bought a new desk

now things
make a lot more sense
I use it a lot more
and I never let a single cent
touch its surface.