Apologia Pro Vita Sua

The masthead of this weblog reads:

"The dead weight

of shallow

abundance."

Sometimes I feel

like I'm sleepwalking with the dead

weight of the abundance

of my solipsistic shallowness.

Paper Chase

"There's so much

money going places

only money knows."

Bob Hicok

in

This Clumsy Living

I usually keep my money crumpled up or folded, with notes to myself, unlike Walt Whitman's songs to himself. I can't remember when I last put money in my wallet. Too bulky. The weight of wealth. The color of money: faded.


No doubt about it. Money goes to money, sticks with it, rubs elbows, holds pinkies out, makes conscience-salving donations, runs from poverty. Just watch the suits and the minks at the latest symphony fund raiser for the downtrodden.