Metals
A poem by Ron Cooper The post Metals appeared first on Deep South Magazine.
Black News 
by Ron Cooper
You must hide what shines,
Granddaddy told me—
watch, buckle, blade—
from the fixed eye of the viper.
You must pocket rings,
lower cap to shade glasse
for the serpent’s smooth brain,
no cleft to hold long thoughts,
knows only to catch any flash,
and whip out the body faster than our bullets.
The resolution of reptiles
to seize what glitters
drives the rough beast
over rat, frog, lizard,
with tireless possession
unknown to our world.
In these very woods,
as thick as history,
I walked astonished,
smirking at an old man’s superstitions.
Imagine, Mr. No-Shoulders,
all fang and scale
S-ing murderously past his real treasures!
But here in these trees,
the swamp air as heavy as time,
are traces of stories from five centuries ago:
men of another land,
all sword and armor,
slouching unstoppably
over maize, bean, potato
enough to feed two worlds,
with metal hunger
enough to destroy one.
Ron Cooper was born and raised in the South Carolina Lowcountry in a swamp so thick that airplanes had to shift into low gear to fly over it. After receiving a Ph.D. from Rutgers University in the soul-sullying North, he moved to Florida, where he has taught for over 35 years.
The post Metals appeared first on Deep South Magazine.
