I am sitting in my convertible ARM chair with the door to the what-if analysis open. I feel a cold wire transfer from the men’s room where George just smoked a variable rate and left the depreciation open to the basis point. I am on the edge of a potential return. Thank you for remembering to bring the good faith estimate. I am slashing and burning, setting fire to the call options. The inflation rate is as high as high, growing delicious liens and licking the margins of my liabilities. When I back up to avoid inflation, I fall back into the time horizon, under the cold gaze of George’s standard deviation. I think I need a breakpoint, I say, and go down the hallway in search of liquidity.
Linda Malnack is the author of two poetry chapbooks, 21 Boxes (dancing girl press) and Bone Beads (Paper Boat Press). Her poetry appears in Prairie Schooner, The Seattle Review, Amherst Review, Southern Humanities Review, Blackbird, and elsewhere. Linda is an Assistant Poetry Editor for Crab Creek Review.