Mybankaccount

My bank account

when I left the middle class

I had few regrets

held onto the accent 

but little else

saw the destruction

wrought by twenty million sultans

had to imagine 

being someone else 

You approach with caution

Unfamiliar with my medication

Your drug of choice is exhaustion

We merge and create situations

I began to relax

When I perceived no threat

I'd fallen out range

Of any panic attic

I slept close to the ground 

without making a sound

just an occasional nightmare

from that distant past