I dread the stink of money.
When I find a pure thing, a perfect thing,
it is not long before it's delicate flavor
is ruined by money.
Many of my desires and fears smell of it. They equally reek.
How do I free myself from money?
In a world of so many empty mouths,
every crumb and drop has a price.
Death also reeks, and I would not have that either.
So I bathe in coins and smell of the world.