I should write this in red ink
like the losses in the quarterly statements
we blithely ignored
what were you thinking
when you whisked us away
on a two-year Carnival cruise
in treacherous seas
of wild speculation,
the china sliding across the table
at every meal?
that the price of precious metals
would soar into the stratosphere
while currencies crumbled
and banks hovered on the brink?
that you could buy high sell low
and still magically turn a profit?
that the ship would right itself
and we’d be sailing on
the sea of prosperity
that Coolidge foresaw in 29?
when we finally bailed out
we told ourselves
at least it wasn’t cancer was it
only paper losses
raining like tossed confetti
in our dreams
next time we got the urge
to seek our fortune in the market
we’d tell Billy at the Stop n Go
to print a string of lottery tix
as long as the line you fed us
(Originally published in Still Crazy)