Clamoring spirits in my head are haranguing
They bounce off the pipes at lightning speed
Commiting theirselves to the very deed
Of keeping alive the old refinery
Where the tears of oil revolve
Screwing unions turn without oil
In centrifugal force that will not resolve
The building shifts on its artificial axis
Groaning smokestacks refuse to make claim
Like nimble fingers that reach for the sky
As though they were preparing to make shame
Skeletonized makeshift elevator shafts
Catwalks that drip with dog water
Iron slides down into the muck
Ready for the ingot slaughter
When it pours free from Besemers
Iron stammers in flow
Into the forms where it conforms
As the ingots lose their bright glow
A settling takes place in the disgrace
Sword beaten plowshares become weapons of war
Deep goes the clanging of the protruding pipes
Down to the very core
Where the transformation takes total control
Beyond the exsistence of the dark black hole
Shattering lives in a distant land
At the mercy of the cuckold command
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
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