You Have Too Much Money

How many up above now count themselves
great kings, who'll wallow here like pigs in slime,
leaving behind foul memories of their crimes!

—Dante Alighieri, The Inferno

Wealth deludes its slaves.

—St. Augustine, The Confessions


Money doesn’t make itself—it’s always taken or squeezed, blood from bone.

Writing letters from an alternate Toronto on the eve of revolution, Nina confronts the way wealth is hinged on exploitation as she questions a man who took something from her a long time ago.


You Have Too Much Money

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Toronto, 2017–2019

money AT youhavetoomuch DOT com