The electromagnetic crane,
cascading steel,
dangling plate and pipe and
torch cut angle,
welded for an instant
in the arc of salvaging,
held in the iron poise
of critical timing,
temporary art
released in a shower
of fragments
into the sharp cacophony
of heaping junk.
Old blog revisited
rather be here talking to myself than on social media as the insanity of the dying earth and killing fields are allowed to grow.
D'Etre Raisins
No sour grapes these,
rather the withered sweetnessof seasons lengthened
to aged fruition
chewed introspectively.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
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