e Little River Review - Gorham High School!

Amy McCarty
Ten Bucks
Ten bucks.
Ten big ones.
I’ve been everywhere.
You name it.
I’ve been crumpled into
a miniscule ball
and jammed in the
back pocket of a man’s pants.
You don’t want to know what goes on back there.
I’ve been tossed and turned in
a wet abyss of someone’s
shirt pocket they forgot to check before washing.
I’ve been stu�ed in
a nervous high school girl’s
sweaty bra before she goes to homecoming,
ensuring her spot dancing
with that guy she can’t stop talking about.
I’ve been quickly stashed in
a bag and handed to a
guy waiting in
front of the counter with a gun pointed
at the other man’s head.
I’ve been given to a boy by his mom
as she says,
“Get her something nice, okay?”
I’ve been carefully tucked into
a glittering pink card
by a pair of wrinkled, callused hands,
and watched as a little girl opened it
with a look of surprise and joy on her face.
I’ve crossed state borders and country borders,
traded for useless key rings and priceless art.
And I’ve been folded patiently
by tiny �ngers and slipped into a thin slot.
Now laying in a dark corner of a pig’s wide belly,
I await my return to the light and circulation of
hands young and old, in lands far and wide.
Ten Bucks
~ 20 ~