recycled economics

I want to marry in a bank
With vaults of chocolate fruit
And green ceilings blinking gold.
I'll move in sweepy turns
Around the soft and tiled floor.
You were married in a bank.
The guests ate shiny beads.
Smalls sacks of cheese were passed around
You looked like coffee dipped in cream
With ivyed lace adrift your back.
He was dressed in paper shoes
That schlipped and schlopped and never tore.
You danced in bleepy weepy turns
Together in your bank at night.
She looked at him with concrete eyes.
He shook the hands of all the band.
He caught her eye and kicked the wind,
Their mouths did listen to the end
And never left the vault.
I want to marry in a bank
With vaults of chocolate fruit
And sacks of moneyed honeyed ham
And teller windows washed with juice.
On the walls old bankers words
Will fold advice in cursive weeds
Put trust in us and bank together.