This poem feathers my nest.

I think I’ll share a few of Dana Gioia’s poems over the next weeks, some with a thin connection to the season or current events. The subject of money, for example, is always up-to-date for most of us. And for the nation, the ownership of it, the earning or the distribution or taxing of money are topics that often come up when people talk about the upcoming election. Let’s take a short break from the usual to enjoy the poetry of it.


“Money is a kind of poetry.”  – Wallace Stevens

Money, the long green,
cash, stash, rhino, jack
or just plain dough.

Chock it up, fork it over,
shell it out. Watch it
burn holes through pockets.

To be made of it! To have it
to burn! Greenbacks, double eagles,
megabucks and Ginnie Maes.

It greases the palm, feathers a nest,
holds heads above water,
makes both ends meet.

Money breeds money.
Gathering interest, compounding daily.
Always in circulation.

Money. You don’t know where it’s been,
But you put it where your mouth is.
And it talks.

— Dana Gioia

2 thoughts on “This poem feathers my nest.

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