LOU RASMUS

The bank I go to
is in an old church building,
with high cathedral ceilings
and stained glass windows,
and I can’t help but think
that the bank owners
maintained the old church look
on purpose,
to ensure that we know that
the dollar is meant to be
worshipped like the body
of Christ.

I ask the teller if he can
cash my check.
He says that he can.
And then he hands me
my money like he’s giving me
the Eucharist.
I thank him for this,
then I put the bills
in my wallet
and say, “amen.”
He looks at me like
he’s confused.

DEAD RED FISH