Ian Copestick

Buried Treasure

Not far from where I live
There’s a little alleyway, only
About six feet wide, but over
One hundred yards long. It
Has no lighting at all
Which makes it hard to
Walk through after dark
Well, a drug-dealing
 Acquaintance of mine,
Who at this moment
Is doing time, once told
Me a story of how one
Night he was walking
Through this alley
And being paranoid
That he was being
Followed, either by
The police or other
Dealers, he hid a bag
Containing over
£800 somewhere
In said alley. With it
Being so bloody dark
And with my acquaintance
Being so off his face, he
Forgot where the money was
And it remains lost
To this day.
At the time I thought
Nothing of it, thinking
It a druggy version
Of a fisherman’s tale.
You know, the one
That got away.
But now and then,
When times get tough
And I’ve been living on
Frozen pizzas for
Over a week, I
Find myself hunting
Through bushes,
Feeling under fences
And digging through dirt
So far all that I have
Ended up with is
Dirty fingernails.
But I’ve got a feeling
That just maybe my
Luck is about to
Change.

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