paid from the wrist

one thing one moment
or whatever this is
a koan for the wordsmith
who paid from the wrist.

his money was no good:
he had none.
"I open up my wallet
and it is full of blood."

in everything he made and said
he made circuits and paid;
loyally paid from his pen, wrist
eventually; begin again.

the price of sin, he said,
is on the collector's last friend. and so
then he died in their eyes
for them. and each and every

walk in the veins of the city
made it easier to put
the metal in, which he did
only for him. begin again.