Bank

Money is spent hieroglyphs to the child mind
and I went to the bank down on Bayfield Street
with my father, an underground bank which you had
to step down three stairs from the sidewalk outside
to get to, and the cashiers would all stop what they were doing
and look up, the customers too, as though they expected
to be robbed at any moment,
and seeing me holding my father's hand
they went back to business,
stopping to look up at each new person
through the door
as I played with the black pens on strings
and rifled through the envelopes
while my father waited
in line.