(a poem Moyra wrote in 1946)
The bank has gone insolvent
and is closing now.
The heavy brass doors shut.
The people shout in vain
against the pillrs of the vestibule.
The gods are sending out the bills and we can’t pay.
Too late we see
it was a false invenstment.
We stand
and stare at the bills
and the shut doors
of the bank.
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