Courage is a Dead Currency
In this country courage is a dead currency
No longer a legal tender
Accepted in any reputable stores
Its coins and banknotes are counterfeit
Try slipping a Canadian quarter
In the vending machine
And nothing happens. No guttural rumble
No churning of inner gears
Nothing falls. The slot remains empty
No matter how hard you pound the red façade
There’s nothing we can do to stop it
So many of us have exhausted ourselves
Suffering the years to accumulate
Now worthless little mounds of green bills
Little nest eggs to draw on
When the time came to be brave
Some hold on to it, hoping it comes back into fashion
Or accrues an inexplicable nostalgic value
In the new mediums of exchange
Like a mint condition Honus Wagner card
Probably best to just burn it
Or get what you can for it
Pennies on the dollar
The wealthiest of us are all cowards
Have cornered the market
On the only kind of currency that counts
If they want a little courage
Just to round off a collection
They can always go buy some
Like a forgotten Pissarro landscape
From a high end gallery
Hang it on a white wall in a long dining room
For everyone to see.
A man with the yellowest streak
Will attest to its authenticity
It gains value by the hour
Just hanging there, doing nothing at all
For bankrupts like us it endures
As a work of priceless wonder
But for them it’s only an object of power
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