WEBVTT

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This poem is called
"Goldwasser."

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My husband was given
a bottle of Goldwasser

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a year ago on his birthday.

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And it's a clear liquid
with little flecks

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of real gold in it that when
you shake, come out of solution.

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And I knew that there
was a poem in it.

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And I wouldn't let him open it
and drink it until I wrote it.

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And it took me
almost a whole year.

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And we had great celebratory
binge of Goldwasser

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a couple of weeks ago

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The snow storm in this
bottle is purest gold,

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as if the ceiling of
heaven were flaking down,

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as if a gold bird
trapped in the bottle

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were beating its feathers
against the glass.

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I tip my head to drink, and my
throat is flecked with gold.

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My words become valuable.

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They flash like the gleam
of a gold-toothed smile.

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And I am changed.

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A tiny sun explodes
behind each eye.

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Its moats come tumbling down.

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I drink.

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While somewhere in
Midas's kingdom,

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a peasant plowing
his necklace of earth

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looks up to see an
ordinary day of snow,

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the flakes all newly minted
and clinking as they fall.

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