Poem Written While on Hold With Fidelity

The year has barely begun

And already I’m tapping into

My 401(k) plan

What do you think

That says about
How the future works

If not being now

(as Rabbi Hillel put it)

Then surely as soon as
The check for this year's
Seed corn has cleared
The Citibank account
And then there's whatever else
Shall come of this upcoming
Season of bittersweet toil

And then 

And then

What
* * * * *

Maybe this poem goes a little too far in divulging personal information.  Since money is the last taboo in polite society, perhaps it verges on bad taste to write about being cash poor.  But it also happens to be a good way of explaining the sense of diminishment I'm not alone in feeling lately - as we've all been drawing down on our savings to buy new seed corn, in the midst of this persistent period that's rife with uncertainty.  So please accept this as a metaphorical as well as literal truth.  Once again we seem to be falling under the iron grip of Dinkelman's First Rule -- even when it's not about the money very often it turns out to be otherwise.