Machines churned, today was the day of
release. Rust
long over looked, an oily rag of
inherited paternalship stuffed here
and
there. An ill-
fitting beating of a screw into an area of a plate
that
was meant for none. Gears grinded on metal.
Abused squealings of
pressure
valves and pipes rattled
the earth with their tortured release.
Among these machines, buzzing engineers and
mechanics
monitored. With lizard fists they jabbed
pencils into holes, wood
into
gears, and finally coal
into the forced mouths of these
machines.
The
machines were made for working
The machines
orgasmed
with new fuel. Heat and
explosions shook the room. This coal was
their's, it
would be their mirror.
Very few survived the climax.
Such an orgy is becoming
common.
What is natural is a mirror of -
-we were taught....
pain.
If you took a lemon, and squeezed
it
Into a cup of water. They would mix
If you took a cup of
water
And removed the
liquid.
Then squeezed the
lemon...
Painted walls express the emotions they are
covered with
in. Snakes, we paint the walls with our tongues
and
fermented
minds.
Dripping with our
honey...
Stagnant droops
of flesh
Home sweet
home.