Glass Poetry Press

Volume Six Issue Two
Featured Theme: Great Lakes Poets

Tricia Knoll

Paper Money and Snake Eyes

Tornados spiraled down County Line between cornfields and mini-malls. My family ducked into our dank basement to play Monopoly, sitting out all hell breaking loose in the woods. I was youngest; I didn't like getting wedged in a wheelbarrow. I understood rent, parking for free, groaning at school, income, and poor taxes; getting play money from the bank, giving to community welfare. Brother Scottie Dog outruns Brother Cannon. They scoot around marking territory. Build houses if you have money. Keep running if you don't. I lobbied for rule changes. Let rents grow like trees, slow. Double rolls for solar subsidies. Grow tomatoes on Pennsylvania Avenue. Trade cannons for garden hoes. Open the lid to the community chest, for veterans and the homeless. Pass go on a bike. Save lucky chances for people in chairs. Replace habits with habitat. Sidle sideways to greenspace. Rest. Put a Statue of Liberty at every immigrant's gate. Stay out of jail, courts are color-blind. Let New Year's resolutions vibrate like prayer. Twisters still ravage that line — families play against small odds on snake eyes.