spending money
spending money
all i want to do is spend my money
not save it all miserly or donate it to the deaf
just spend it on myself again and again
big ticket purchase?
spend my money
eating out gorgeous?
spend my money!
another selection in the library of things?
ring the drawstring on the ATM machine!
take it, it’s yours’
and all the misery a zero-balance brings!
ting ting a-ling!
there was no money in my house growing up.
well, there was,
but my dad wouldn’t let us touch.
we were a frugal bunch.
that’s probably why i stole from him so much.
but the adage went,
it was his to do with as he saw fit.
he made it: he alone could spend it,
making all the decisions for the family unit.
that was
until there was nothing left in the accounts to stretch –
he was laid-off from his nine-to-five
and couldn’t make a living doing work on the side.
then my mother got a job –
hurt his amour-propre –
throwing a wrench into his life she had robbed.
theory of a daskeman 