Did I call money the first consideration?
Well, not if the drapes are on fire, of course. 
But, in general, yes.  Though it’s upstairs that 
we work, eat, and sleep, houses need foundations.
Still, the first consideration isn’t always 
the most important, dear, as when you need
the Honda keys to get to your wedding.

Lucre’s not filthy, just what the Bishop 
of Hippo called an occasion of sin.
If I remember Father Staszic’s lesson right,
pecunia non est radix omnium 
malorum, sed avaritia.  The sin’s not
in the woman but her lust-drunk ravisher.

Mrs. Riley likes to serve up the obvious 
as wisdom, warming up somebody else’s 
casserole as if it were her own and made 
from scratch.  The other day, after the usual 
ten minutes of retailing her ill-health, she  
declared with high sagaciousness that it’s 
easy to be young and strapped, but not to be 
both old and poor. Duh, as your friend Brenda 
would say.  I loved that, by the way.  Duh.  
The curt dismissiveness of the syllable, 
tongue up against the teeth, a fine derisive 
plosive, the posing at stupidity.  
Well, I suppose saying Duh was original 
once, then—in a week—one more cliché.  
Anyway, Mrs. Riley was only half right.
The Rileys were always flush; young or old, 
she’s never run low, never felt that shame.
Money’s merely means, my dear.  Making it
an end turns life into an accounting game.

Well, since you’ve asked, let’s have a drink,
And then I’ll tell you what I think.
A sherry or your usual Earl Grey tea?  
Please pour a finger of Laphroaig for me.
It won’t take long to state my views—
then, we can scoff at the evening news.

Earn what you need to pay your bills
and mind you never pay them late.
Don’t take risks for a higher rate 
or lust after wealth’s mirages—
Rodeo Drive, Beverly Hills,
McMansions with four-car garages.

The rich with too much in the bank
are twins to those without a dime;
both are imprisoned by their rank
and think of money all the time.
So, not too much and not too little;
I find life’s better in the middle.

Best of all is having the wherewithal
not to think about the wherewithal 
	       at all.