First we must collect
the money
from the gills of sweet-born

fish. They are money
hidden in the hills
of mommy’s bitch. I call the money

Sandy because when I touch it
then it flows.
There is a mummy “Sandy”

who knows all about those things.
Crisp
and pure like bobby-jewels,

“She looks like running water.”
She looks just
like the gills. Over the hump

we have to get them.
The nests
that cling and cling.

There they are, sandy,
like the bitch
from where they came! There

she is: Sandy,
cleaning her
paddles with mommy’s name.