Category: Money

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Butcher

Armed with cleaver, saw & knife,
Around his block he dances,
Slicing deftly, big as life,
His customer’s finances.

by Ray Romine Friday, January 15, 1954

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Blow Horn For Bank Messenger

Though times were tough away ‘way back
In 1933,
At least, then, overeating
Was a possibility.

In ’51, though, markets
Have a boy for every bin
Not to carry groceries, but
To tote your dollars in.

by Ray Romine Wednesday, June 20, 1951

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Balcony Moan

The gal on stage emotes with passion
That scatters tears to the fourteenth row;
But I can sob better in genuine fashion–
To watch her performance, I laid out dough.

by Ray Romine Thursday, January 18, 1951

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And Where It Stops, Nobody Knows

I guess I must have overslept;
Here bills are dated First of Sept.

I wonder what I shall have hocked
When they come headed First of Oct?

I’ll HAVE to find a treasure-trove
Sometime before the first of Nov.,

And so catch up, or know no peace
When we are writing “First of Dec.”

Then, Christmas fixes me again:
I’m buried on the 1st of Jan!

by Ray Romine Thursday, August 9, 1951

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Acclimated

Why should I worry over bills,
Wuo lives in them up to his gills?
Add what I owe to what I’ve spent–
Bills are my native environment!

by Ray Romine Friday, August 24, 1951