No Cents
They’re phasing out the penny.
We’ll see a lot fewer little Lincolns
to remind us how he set slaves free.
At age ten I used to shoot dimes
from the free throw and three point lines.
I was short with coke bottle eyeglasses
but I was lonely and my parents were fighting
inside the house, working on their divorce,
so I hid in the narrow driveway and got
accurate so the ball wouldn’t roll into the grass
or onto the oil spill in the pavement. Right
after Dad left, Mom signed me up
for Boys Club Basketball. It cost $20
to join the team. She showed up with a $10 bill
hidden inside a jar of pennies so the coach would
pity her, so she could play
the poor suffering little woman,
as I shook with shame, shouted
shoot, shoot, shoot, and I shot, and I shot.
Without my dad there to protect me from her
insanity, I felt worthless as a penny
and trapped like a penny in that jar,
seven more years in that haunt
with no one to call fouls on her
and with no Lincoln coming to free me.
20 thoughts on "No Cents"
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The whole piece unfolds beautifully and hauntingly. The turn at the end is pure gold.
Thank you!
haunting and sad, beautifully rendered.
Thanks Linda!
I love it starts with the current event, relates it to history and quickly gets personal. An effective zoom lense. I love how the last line is alone like the speaker is. A sad and excellent poem.
Thanks so much, Linda!
These home-life pieces of yours have been heartbreaking, Tom. So encouraged by how you’ve chosen to use that experience, writing amazing poems.
Thanks for our support, Bill.
The full circle currency image works here on so many levels
Thanks Liz!
What others have said about dovetailing personal stories with historical themes. And I just feel for that boy, shooting baskets in the driveway.
I always appreciate your insights, Kevin.
Well, if these poems are going to be in the upcoming chapbook, sign me up for a copy! This is magic weaving, and I love the play of title No Cents (no sense). I feel like I should have Janis Joplin as background ’cause you take a piece of my heart every day.
Thanks. Trying for chapbook length. We’ll see.
I love the way you make the historical real: both public history and private. Did she have to count out the hundred pennies? A lot of Lincolns.
A thousand pennies
Such full lines. A few favs:
short with coke bottle eyeglasses/ fighting/inside the house, working on their divorce,
and wow, wow, wow:
worthless as a penny/and trapped like a penny in that jar,
seven more years in that haunt/with no one to call fouls on her /and with no Lincoln coming to free me
Thanks Pam!
Two full character sketches in this one- beautiful gut punches throughout.
Thanks Austen.