Existential Envelope

My pay-cheque comes in a white
envelope; the flap licked over but
abandoned. The adhesive
glue just a stain; a yellow
patina, at and over the edges
of a vertical paper vest. The
rectangular vehicle of all that
runs the world, is crumpled,
but unforgotten in the back-
pocket of my work jeans.

The envelope stoops over,
when I take it out ;
an anthropomorphic relic
of modernity, grimacing along
the length of its body, harboring
the misconception of necessity.

Existential angst is the result
of being steeped in cliches
of prosperity.

With the resigned body of paper
drooping in my hand, I surgically
pull out the cheque.

I ask for a deposit slip.

As I fill in the particulars, I mull
over how much more I need to
earn to buy myself happiness
and a bride. As my transaction
winds down, the banker thanks
me and I thank her back redundantly

Satisfied with my manners, I walk out
with an empty pair of jeans.