excerpts from Coins
Stare for an instant at the sun
as it sets,
then close your eyes to feel the ions
burn into your brain.
There are coin slots in the air
if you can find them,
though they take only the alien currencies.
The bracteate,
a coin stamped through –
two heads with no tails;
the jugate,
two heads on the obverse
split left to right, or
overlapped in dual relief:
flip such a coin and count your heads
two to every tail;
when are our masters ever
not two-faced?
Florins swaying in the fields,
blossom-heavy and wet.
Coins under water
falling like leaves.
Ahab nailed the doubloon face down
to the mast –
noble golden coin
of Ecuador,
medal of the sun
and tropic token-piece.
Dark-cloaking theater,
vast plains of markings,
seas of infinite projection;
world spinning,
dark world turning
in the starry sky –
gold-glinting peaks
and crests and faces,
O embraceable,
O nailable,
O world-at-hand!
The gold in Cellini’s hands
was also living and burning
and he struck it into medals,
caskets, candlesticks,
and vases.
Skilled as well with weapons
of all kinds:
swords, daggers, hackbuts
and words.
“…since the order for my assassination
was to be carried out
an hour after sunset,
an hour before sunset
I rode off with the post train towards Florence.”
– so skilled he was
as to count the coin-flips
and guess it right:
“heads –
but not mine;
not tonight.”