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The Treasure Ships
By Paul Cameron Brown
Rich ornamental procession
enough wealth to dazzle a Prester John,
Sheba's queen, even the fawning
burghers of Rothschild's domain.
Reams of it,
Park Avenues in
torrents down a mountain side;
Eldorados,
the gardens of Babylon become shimmering in the sun;
this vulgar display,
this sheer ostentation.
Such are the waters of the rich I now approach.
Peach gold fabulous wealth.
More men of substance here
than all the proverbial luxury since antiquity,
- talents, ingots, ducats - bars
so heavily encrusted with gems
the very floor boards groan
with the largesse.
Never a Buddha's tooth
Pierpont scheme,
crown
or outstretched finger
did circumnavigate
more treasure
than this eye
swelling around
that one treasure chest procured.
Like a ship glutting the Spanish Main
- my treasure ship -
she vies with me
my memories
Midas' gold
or Krupp's iron wealth secured
all of which is a ransom
parleying against the crowned heads of this world.
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