David Cooke (6 Poems)

Dazzling work by David Cooke in Underfoot Poetry.

Underfoot Poetry

Gold

Its lack of reaction has made it unique,
that and the way it can magnetize fools:
forty-niners, Midas, the futures mob—
so gung ho, yet always dazzled by it,
like urchins dreaming of gilded pavements.

Locked in a vault, it validates paper.
It’s what the rich cling to when the bubble
bursts, smiling at the rest of us, our mouths
agape, who wonder why what’s left
is fool’s gold, when the real stuff vanishes.

Acquaint yourself with history, the endless
grubby tomes we’ve filled. From the Age
of Gold to the Age of Iron the avalanche
of grief it’s caused would make you think
we had gathered mountains of it

when, if we had managed to find enough,
we could divvy up into shares for all.
So trudge across the moonlit ploughland
with a metal detector, unearthing
hoards of coins so hastily abandoned.

Crack open the mausoleums of men

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8 thoughts on “David Cooke (6 Poems)

    • You’re very welcome, Tim. I don’t have anything suitable to send right now (most of the good stuff is circulating), but I hope that a cohesive group will emerge from the “marinating” folder in the near future. By the way, I just ordered David Cooke’s book!

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Pingback: David Cooke (6 Poems) – carouselclub2017

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