You always took Park Place,
cobalt tile weighted by your viridian buildings
and crimson hotels.
I stumbled over the borderlines and railroad tracks,
toppled over Baltic.
Wheelbarrow balanced on one side, you
skated seamlessly through the boulevards
and avenues. 
Reckless pass while garish notes gathered
under your corner,
neat, muted stacks lined up bill by bill. 
Alabaster hills sliding beneath the couch,
crumpled roseate you passed conceitedly
as I reluctantly traded tangerine trophies
and another accolade
for an arrogant –
I paid my dividend,
dissidence dismissed by
unofficial bank teller
who slickly slid gilded notes
under palms as you and I bickered
over ownership,
until a misstep cost you
your capital, and
I cheered gleefully
as you claimed bankruptcy
and I claimed Boardwalk.




YWP Alumni Advisor

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