Pecuniary Whistleberries

The whistleberries chased me.
They cornered me in an alley
behind a club that they owned.
The music was loud, with
an ostentatious beat, borrowing,
begging, for indivisible attentiveness.
The biggest stole my wallet.
Finding nothing they broke my glasses
and took all my clothes. I found chalk
and drew a circle around them.
The whistleberries stood and stared,
not knowing what I was doing.
Then they deflated into the ground.
I stole their wallets, which was all
that was left and went into the club.
I pretended to belong and bought
a shirt from one man, shorts from another,
and a jacket from a third. Then I took a taxi
home. I had a tall glass of milk and counted
my earnings. Gleefully, I ordered pizza.