to each his own: money risks
there is a race—
which of 5 will survive the swim
in black skies and heavy rains.
the favorite swimmer has died.
the top 3 swimmers have died.
I am one of the swimmers.
water surrounds the las strip of sand.
corpses of the others float past.
I survive—hung on a ladder
at the old beach playground.
floods wash in;
seep out—relentless.
money risks…
with each ebb come millions of crabs
pincers clacking—I’m barely out of reach.
with each ebb appear bags of money
hung from the ladder’s lower rungs.
with each ebb I crouch
grasping for bags:
was it worth it? resounding…
for Jeb Harmon.
itsyacreationstation 