The bank just emailed
my current statement
and I’d rather
fall down
a well
than open it.
Lauren Bacall said:
Anyone can survive
but the key
is to prevail.
I’ve been disabled
since the first George Bush
was president
and I’ve had
cancer
—calling it “The Big C!” is just one more useless euphemism—
each day of my fifties.
I’ve sold
nearly everything of value
and moved
countless times
to keep a roof
over my head
and much more importantly
my dog’s.
Simultaneously,
I’ve published
an acclaimed memoir
about my best friend’s
grisly mountain-climbing
death
and more essays, stories, and poems
than a bear
has claws.
I know how to prevail.
But tenacity
doesn’t lead to cash
no matter what
all the force-fed propaganda says.
I need
a treatment
or a cure
to convince
these rogue cells
to stop trying
to murder me
and ideally
—while I’m wishing—
for death
to allow my best friend
to come back
to life
so we can eat
coffee ice cream sundaes
and debate
the new Scorsese documentary.
Most of this seems improbable.
But if someone honest
wants to peek
at my bank statement
and tell me
how to make enough money to stay alive
—so my body can keep killing me, I guess—
well,
that’d be just swell.
Ms. Bacall,
I’m doing my best.
But this lack
of money
gives me no rest.
Click here to read Litsa Dremousis on the origin of the poem.
Image by Jp Valery on unsplash.com, licensed under CC 2.0.
- Bank Imbalance - July 14, 2026