Sachiko Murakami. The Invisibility Exhibit. Vancouver, British Colombia: Talonbooks, 2008.
1My fist holds as many coins
2as I can carry. All are stamped with the Queen’s effigy;
3Elizabeth, D.G. Regina, the resident of pockets,
4a woman I’ve never met though I always know
5her whereabouts. Each face pressed
6into another person’s palm before mine.
7The stink of sweat and metal. The waste of it.
8I wish for a return, or for justice.
9It’s safe to do that here. You can throw wishes away
10and no one will fish them out
11before the park’s authority comes to drain the pool
12and return the coins to currency.
13Maybe I’m buying the future a Coke,
14a popsicle, a bag of potato chips, a fix.
15Maybe I’m trying to bribe God.
16I’m not the type who says no to a panhandler,
18I scatter my spare change
19all at once. Each completes its parabolic reach,
20falls dead weight. I wish until the ripples still enough
21to show my face: and just beyond, lit stars
22bright as found dimes.
RPO poem Editors
Poem used with permission of the author.