After work today
I walked up a different street to the bank.
I went to a different door,
past the construction and the car wash,
where the dropped-out teenagers work
and try to hustle money from the people
in the condos across the street.
I sat in an upholstered chair
with leaf print.
I shook hands with a man in a suit
whose name I quickly forgot.
We spoke about the weather
and how when I was in London it was 60 degrees
while Nashville was 110.
I said that it was nothing personal
and he gave me $5.04-
all that was left in our account.
Back on the street going to the bus stop
I was behind this couple
who held slightly wrinkled hands.
Not that we did that much,
since you always hated my public displays,
but i do wish
that it would be something
that I'd have to forget.


Michael G. Finlay
Michael G. Finlay has a BA in Theatre and Creative Writing. He has been a self-described "poet-monk" for the past five years, working odd-jobs, writing and not doing much of anything else. He lives in Nashville, TN with his daughter, cat and a large group of loved ones.