THE FACE OF COPPER
I peel off a price tag and stick it to your astonished lips, and
you rush to the department store mirror, gazing at the mark
I have branded you with. You remove the scar, with a cloudy grimace,
stammering, “b-b-b-u-t this price tag reads $0.01!”
And I smirk because again you have misunderstood me,
and I remind you that many people overlook the fact that
copper was once one of the most precious metals,
and unlike the fools who discard their pennies,
like the flu – throwing them into the Delaware River
or trampling on Abraham as they pass him by,
I keep mine safely encased in a glass jar, housing every penny
I’ve received since I was five, and like the penny - I am still –
clinging onto you.