Columbus, wearing a night-gown made from a treasure map, Is sleepwalking on the giant avenues of an invisible sea. He dreams he had discovered the Isthmus of Compound Interest In his constant pursuit of the droppings of the One Historical Zero. Tears fall through the meridians of his hands. He is sad. His sadness makes the winds blow, Filling his sails with the algebra of abstract labor. Birds faint at his passing and the fish turn to stone. He is looking for gold that breathes and has dark skin And can be renamed @3Slave@1. The birds revive, screaming. In the dungeons of the King the dark zero grows wounds and weapons. At sea the waves trudge off in search of a new continent. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IS YOUR TOWN NINEVEH? by MARIANNE MOORE STANZAS FOR MUSIC (2) by GEORGE GORDON BYRON WRITTEN ON THE LEAVES OF A FAN by FRANCIS ATTERBURY RECOLLECTIONS by BERNARD BARTON SONG OF THE SATYRS TO ARIADNE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET VARIATIONS ON SAPPHO: 35 by KATHERINE HARRIS BRADLEY |