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letra de a pretty penny - silvaski

[hook]
a pretty penny
hands, i’ve been in many
my worth is sh-tty and petty
i’ve been there when sh-t gets messy
i only constitute as half a thought
been thrashed and tossed
[fix and finish]

e pluribus unum ; out of many, one
since the 1800s, my type has been extracted and unable to be an independent entity of one
in 1999, i was pressed among many
dumped into a designated crate off of the belt, a mere one penny
a clandestinely appreciated beauty
modulated in popular media to appear
yet to look more like me, get spray tans
they think that black racism has been a movement instigated by the glorious 16th president, so as a synecdoche, i’m called an abraham
i’ve been tossed at desperate pan-handlers
thrashed about after being forgotten about, only being acknowledged when they hear me making clamor (being in pockets with washer and dyer)
tossed with receipts and other coins into car cup holders
left in jars, been around for a few years, now i am much older
right now, i’m in my owner’s pocket, a lone coin that she got for change
she walking down the block and suddenly she is caught in the rain
dropped out of her pocket among the scramble for the umbrella, i see the rushing water carrying contemporaries into the street drains
i’m tired of being the one that survives, why did they have to be in the streets
overwrought with shame
why them and not me, it’s better than being tossed for a game
my flip would determine who would go first
i saw so many dudes lose their sh-t, landed so many tails that abraham’s nose hurts
sat there for no more than 2 hours, many walked by, but since it was dark and raining, i had no glister
the rain had subsided, i was oxidizing in the moisture, appreciating the petrichor
a man stumbles next to me a little after the sun goes down, inebriated from liquor
in a slump, he was disheveled, other than the donated coat he was wearing made of fine genuine leather
knowing that as a mere 1 cent that i couldn’t make his life better
he had recently lost his job and family left him, he regressed into a state where he would never again be hired
he traipsed to the nearest liquor store as now that he had me, he could just afford a cheap lighter
i was put on the counter and counted, the ding of the register sounded
put into a slot with others like me when the drawer opened
couple minutes later, it was just closing time, some 22 year old kid came in to buy alcohol, but the manager told that the store was closin’
he beseeches, and the owner reluctantly accepted, and said that it would be fine
he purchased 2 6 packs with a 20
d-mn, in only one evening, i’ve been used 3 times for money
as change, the gentleman was given a dollar bill, me, and another piece of copper
all put into the pocket, d-mn, it’s rare that i’ve kicked it with a bill, this is sweet like peach cobbler
just as i was gettin used to it, me and the other penny were taken out
given to some teenager along with the beer, and the 22 year old took the dollar as payment and bounced
the kid went back to his house, went into his room, tossed us both into a jar with a nickle in it–he didn’t have ridges either
but once he got out, finding his place would probably be about 5 times easier
him and his 2 friends drank it all, became rowdy, under the influence, they made prank calls
his single mother comes in without knocking
smell the alcohol and see the bottles, kick his friends out, and begins loudly talking
it escalates to shouting and squawking, he blames his hedonistic tendencies on his drunkard father as a role model
shifts the blame on her, as when he was an infant, she never had time to hold the bottle as she was out stripping; working as a pole model
saying sh-t like “no wonder dad left you
he put up with your stripping and it when it came to parenthood, you showed severe lacking and ineptitude”
his mother backhands him and says “i did everything in my power to protect you
spoiled -ss kid, he didn’t leave me, he couldn’t stand being a dad so he left you”
after that, i tried not listening
as white-noise, i heard night-long bickering
long story short, the mom leaves the bedroom, and the kid falls into a slumber
mother comes back in late night and turns him on his side so that he doesn’t vomit and drown under
his own vomit, then she quietly leaves the room
over the next 11 months, i wondered when i would be exhumed
never touched, though he moved the jar a few times when he cleaned his room
just waited while being suffocated, a single penny mingling among many
how i longed to have a place in my owner’s cozy billfold
even with nealy 1,000 of us in here, it was still cold
i saw him improve and mature significantly
he vowed aloud in his room to respect his mother from this day fourth until she perished blissfully
he later vowed that he would make her proud
he was no longer hanging with a dangerous crowd
one day, i hear an extraneous sound
he barged in, and grabbed the jar off of his dresser, i was ready for action
after 3 transferals in a single night, i had gone nearly a year without a transaction
tossed into the backseat, shifting around as he drove over the uneven gravel
i was merely grateful for the ride, so i didn’t really need a saddle
i can’t wait to be part of the system again
the coins decades older cackled
a nickel said he has been around since ’65, but i couldn’t verify since he had nearly been defaced
this brother had been scarred, abused, and maltreated
and he said them guys at the bank were probably going to have him erased since his distinction had depleted
“oh, the bank, i’ve heard tales of this place”
he says that i was going to be deposited among him and the others
that the owner would have our collective calue displayed onto a paper slip, he would cash it, then use the money to buy a gift for his mother
then we would be segregated by type and resold in bundled packages
he had been through it several times, and this was probably going to be the last of his
i wanted to be in caring hands
used to buy a luxurious sports car, not to be secluded in darkness
used for the first time a boy buys himself condoms, or for fresh produce at a fruit market
next thing i know, our owner has us next to the machine
he removes the lid, tips the jar, and there is a cacaphony of metal impacting metal and screams
fortunately, i was able to stay stuck at the bottom, tucked, in a crevice
on the screen, there was a message:
“your total is 41.83”
he took the printed slip in for the cash, stuffed the bills in his pocket and threw the change in with me
they told me that they were glad to be out of there
i asked them if they saw the ’65 nickle and they said that they were at the front, and that that stuff goes down in the back and they weren’t around back there
we’re back in the car, what a time to be alive
he sets his gps for the store with the present that he needs to buy
owner pulls up to a mall, goes in with the bills, comes out with some perfume
says to himself “moma’s gonna love this” chuckles and says that maybe she’ll also extend his curfew
says that hopefully he will have good luck after he flipped the penny he got for change into the mall fountain
man, it seems a coin is only in his place sectioned off or commodified for trivial entertainment
the coins in there must form a tall underwater mountain
he wafted a bit of the perfume, i’ll admit that it was a marvelous fragrance
man, the other coins didn’t get to see what they helped purchases
that ’65 has given so much and still felt worthless, lived life with no self-purpose
know i see why coins are segregated from the paper, why our value as currency is sh-t
they system doesn’t want us to know that we were the foundation of what it currently is
why do you think we have the lincoln memorial, we’re the obvious yet unacknowledged pillar, kept as a secret
now i understand why when i was offered as extra, the consumer told the cashier to keep it
we’re marginalized as a burden, to be acknowledged and commended is prohibited
the cornerstone of this whole f-cking system, it doesn’t want to be admitted
it all makes sense why they discontinued the coin dollar
why in the later 20th century, we were worth 2 minutes for a payphone caller
i saw something that a trivial coin isn’t supposed to see
while my owner was out, he also stopped as walmart to buy some groceries
i tried explaining what i understood now to the 3 quarters, 2 other pennies, and the nickel
that the attitudes regarding our place and circ-mstances imposed are fickle
they didn’t bother to comprehend, as the sytem has made them too dismal
the owner came back with some bread, cheese, strawberries, and a jar of pickles
on the drive home, he was waiting at a red light when there was a beggar on the street corner
like i said earlier, my owner’s heart had become much warmer
so he reached back, grabbed the jar, dumped us into the palm of his hand
he took us graciously when the owner offered, he solemnly said “thanks, man”
later that evening, my new owner was rummaging through the dumpster
sudden incursion by an aggressive jumper
he showed no struggle as he grabbed his change and other things, pulled out his gun and was aggravated
blasted his brains out of his skull and said to himself “another b-m eradicated”
heads to a designated gambling spot, bets on tails for a wad, the other that i would flip heads
oh h-ll no, i’m not doing this sh-t again
i was sick of determining who’d get money arbitrarily
tired of being the cause of an innocent death unvoluntarily
the flipper places me on his thumb, and on the side of his index
flicks his thumb up, my owner apprehensive, meanwhile, i’m holding my breath
deciding that i will relinquish my anger
i know that my owner is volatile, i’ll flip against his favor so that i can extinguish this danger
i start to descend, preparing to land heads
i hit the table, and i stand on my edge
muster every fiber of my copper complexion to flip onto my tails
this is exaclty the outlet that i needed, i cannot fail
the other dude cheers, my owner snatches me and puts me back in my pocket
pulls out his gat and he c-cks it
they all put their hands up, as he stuffs
all of the paper currency on table as well as the rest that everybody had into his jeans
he sprints away, hurrying with speed
as he is running down the block, a couple of the pursuers run after him and gun him down with shots
i just can’t believe i’m in this pocket with 20 dollar wads
they pilfer his body to reclaim what was theirs
i’m thinking how the homeless dude died just so his robber could be shot down, it wasn’t fair
in god we trust is not an adage that i advocate, so pardon me having it engraved
as they’re all grabbing their cash, i’m once again on the walk way that is paved
police show up, take care of their business, then leave me there
enjoy my time outside in beautiful night, just breathing air
next morning, the working crowd is walking the sidewalk, a serene sunny day
a man of the crowd catches the sunlight reflecting off of me, bends over, picks me up, and says to himself “today must be my lucky day”

- silvaski

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