My uncle once told me
never to smell money;
for liking the smell of money
is selfish, I suppose,
as if the green scent is blood
in an ocean infested with sharks
and you're the shark, hungry for blood cells,
hungry for money.
So hungry for the cotton that you'd
eat the clothes off of your own back-
or rather, someone else's.
Greedy to own something someone else
Hungry for their knowledge, the power
they once had.
As if inhaling the scent of currency
will make you better, stronger, incomparably
great by no question.
From your nostrils to your ego.
From your mind to those around you.
I guess what my uncle was trying to say
is that money is empowering, engulfing.
Society is to blame for that one.
The CEOs of the world.