My Face in the ATM Screen

O the camera that lies in wait

like a mugger behind the glass.

So very toothsome, I mistook for

a zealot. My funds were secure but not me,

for I was lovesick. Rewind the surveillance.

Observe my face. I am unhappy

despite the approaching spit of bills

flapping near my zipper. A single day

of concatenated cams streaming reveals

it is my hour to bottle the monarchs.