Hudson County, November ’80 by Gary Cahill

Hundies, fifties, twenties.  Plenty.  All tidied in a mother-of-pearl inlay cash clip.  A chunk chiseled off the sun.  Not plated; gold on through, eighteen carat, maybe twenty-four, more?, plucked off Saturday morning’s flaking decayed curbstone, battered-to-dust slate-gray snow powdering the personalized “J.F.D.”, and the etched-in artwork; like half-a-claddagh, or entwined fingers, or a secret society […]