charleston

The automatic teller machine
of stories and dreams
is pure magic,
I put my invisible card in the slot
and musical notes come out
in 20s and more,
like a Charleston
danced with low dresses,
with florals,
and feathers,
with tassels,
bright garters
and bows.
the legs up in the sky,
the sassiness,
the sideway steps,
I get my receipt
with the amount,
a jazzy withdrawal of sorts
I take the card back,
a transparent plastic
to have,
and sure on my way
just swinging the pearls,
I move on,
to pay all the bills
I owe to the board.