Φίλιππος

“Διακοσίων δηναρίων ἄρτοι οὐκ ἀρκοῦσιν
αὐτοῖς ἵνα ἕκαστος βραχύ τι λάβῃ.”

Our boats provided cheaper shade at noon
Than what the Tarsi and their tent-markets sold.
We leaned against our hulls and watched the sun
In shade ignite our morning catch. Now piled
In baskets by our sails and sheets, these scaled
Medallions, shivered loss and spangled gain.
Ad hoc accountant for the family guild,
I knew what price such fish would fetch in grain.

So at Bethsaida, Rabbi had his man:
I’d made my reputation’s bottom line
As taut and fast as nets. But when he called
For multiples on divinity’s yield –
My human digits fished for thrift in vain.
He broke with love the cost of bread alone.

Comments

  1. Matthew Lickona says

    Those dirty Tarsi, always overcharging for tents.

  2. Angelico Nguyen, Esq., OP says

    You’re really into the poetry of money, JOB.

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