HERE in a cage the dollars come down.
      To the click of a tube the dollars tumble.
      And out of a mouth the dollars run.

          I finger the dollars,
          Paper and silver,
          Thousands a day.

      Some days it's fun
              to finger the dollars.
Some days...
              the dollars keep on
              in a sob or a whisper:
      A flame of rose in the hair,
      A flame of silk at the throat.