orchestra of sand dollars

all the toll roads have teeth
that bite off our tails. i am trying
to reach a destination. no more 
jupiter jelly. no more tear ducts 
to crawl up into. we fight for weeks,
trying to kill all the rats in the yard.
instead, the flood comes & we become
beach front property. the rats
are our landlords. it's only fair
after we fed them borax. i have
a shovel i use to deep the scarlet.
you tell my not to bother. i bother.
i always bother. my heart is covered
with gnats. is a banana peel. 
the last day for money was monday 
& now we will have to trade
whatever we have left. i have an orchestra
of sand dollars i don't tell anyone about.
i am filthy rich. i keep them in the attic.
there i crouch & ask them to play me
beethoven. they ask, "which one?"
i say, "surpirse me." instead, they play
beatles music which always makes me think
of my father. i do not want
to be rich. i want to be less hungry.
i want to have a fish hook that's sticky enough
to catch a comet. instead, we dangle our feet
off the side of the porch. whistle at sharks.
"i wish i had a sand dollar" my friend says.
i hide my face. they are mine. they are
all mine. a shark delivers the mail.
it's all junk. one card looks like
a genuine holiday card but it's just
my dentist announcing, "we buy teeth for cash." 
the sand dollars are humming. fluttering
like moth wings. like mother mother nature.
there is in the end no where to spend them. 
the television says our names. come when
you are called. we go to watch 
another sing-along funeral.