An Irish penny from 1941 has been in my pocket
For years. On one side there is a rooster and on the other
There is a harp but lately the rooster has been trying
To transform himself into a picture of me in case
A thin margin of the ghosts of Venetian senators
Elect me doge requiring me at dawn the next day
To throw coins with my image on them to the crowd.
The harp reminds him there's been no doge
Since 1797 but the rooster says we should be prepared
I tell them I'm impressed figures on an Irish coin know so much
About Venice and its customs; they say what's remarkable
Is my ignorance about them.
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