With no Frills

When the dollars came in

Bundles of hundred dollar bills

One would think it came from sin.

But every note gave me chills.

To see the product of the mind when

I lean up on window sills

I know why I work the markets, then.

It’s like collecting money from tills.

To have rolls in the bin

Is when I feel the loveliest thrills.

I see them cut sharper than a shark fin.

The dollars let me breathe like gills.

I stack the money up to my chin.

I earned it all from my skills.

It never gets too thin.

The cash comes in boxes with no frills.