Icon/Coin
Cory Hutchinson-Reuss
we have so much trouble
& all this:
the fact of cell, lineament, eyelash
iris lit
with recognition you:
windowing open inner rooms
that have become fluent
with color & glass
your mountain architecture
imports a presence
your torso of wheat
budding the earliest stars
where have you walked
your horizon scar your face & burning core
an icon of the unnamable one
the way a koan is an oak
/
shuddering & wild hallelujahs
circumscribed by markets
domesticated & servile
as if the god dreamed
an american dream
may our currency
be strong & our empire
invisible
how easy how embedded the slip
dominus : domicile : dominion
pressing us
into coin
into the equation of blood
& treasure
/
for centuries people were buried
with money the emperor’s face
dates the remains the realm the life
every face is a microcosm Stranger,
I love my empire I hate
I am cleaved / cleaving
born in two houses that reassemble
each other, each dreaming
its own mastery
/
treasuries of wild mint
grow in the alleys
the clouds, migrant the god
a prism
/
I tie colored strips of cloth
to branches purple, hemoglobin, ochre
people wash ashore
disappear into prisons & detentions
the tree bears questions
desperation’s visible spectrum
do I know your face
when I see it do I need it
to be my own
how far
has the fact of you walked
with your everlasting
carnation your communion
your dress of windows
rendering sun
Cory Hutchinson-Reuss grew up in Arkansas, received her PhD in English from the University of Iowa, and now lives and writes in Iowa City. Her work has appeared in Brink, Slice, Zone 3, The Offing, Pangyrus, Crazyhorse, and elsewhere. She was a finalist for the 2021 Levis Prize from Four Way Books for her manuscript A Koan/An Oak, and a chapbook of poems and visual art made in collaboration with Giselle Simón is forthcoming from PromptPress. She currently serves on the advisory council of Iowa City Poetry and as a poetry reader for The Adroit Journal.