22 May 2010


Imagine a penny. This is the image I was writing about in this poem.

Mintage 5/22

Hills of words - a continent -
                        along the edge of the coin - a face - a secret

            Rough hewn fingers rubbing
- lines of feeling strings from sweaters

                                    His is the face of the dead
                        this President with numbers on his chest

Pull the world down to this inflatable pool - let the copper
reflects greeness into the whole -

The hills are cascading - lines of code falling
                        snow even - erasing the history - the future

No comments:

Post a Comment