A love of poetry can rarely be combined with financial services. However, in my newly acquired Collected Poems by Philip Larkin I found Money. It is a pragmatic poem and suprisingly, even brutally relevant to the way most people do, or do not, use their money, and their sometimes shameful indifference to it:
Quarterly, is it, money reproaches me:
‘Why do you let me lie here wastefully?
I am all you never had of goods and sex.
You could get them still by writing a few cheques.’
It is not common for people to write so plainly about the relationship between the amount of money one has and the amount of sex one can get. There are three other verses and I recommend them: the full text of the poem can be found over here.
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