A Multi-Million Anxiety

Millions upon millions upon millions of dollars – soaked in oil – ah! if I had them I too would pour them all at your feet; and then I would shine like a crown proud and holy on your brow in the uproar of this market. Millions upon millions upon millions of dollars in wealth if I too had them I would offer them to you and then my name too would be engraved like the Greatest Name on your ring and then you would ask lovingly me too how in the end it passed, my day and my night after you? far from you? in prison. Millions upon millions upon millions of words with your name with your memory on crumpled sheets of straw paper soaked in the clear wave of the future welling from the depths of my eyes: this alone is all my wealth a stranger to this whole market. Will you accept my poems, my love?...