When the eyes of day
turn away from the sun
when the bronze haze rises
to usurp the city
when the linkages close
and the circuits assemble
we emerge in steel
we are strapped in metal
caged to a chassis
we are staged to ride

We clog the roads
the roads we built
from our secretions
to their completion
of our excrement
the discarded shells
the shells of wasps
that dug to find
the iron in the ground
the oil in the mind
of ancient strata

On this mine’s tailings                                 
we stretch cold railings
our spasm is movement
our song is death

In steel cases carried
we have no past
we pass each other
we dare not tarry
In motion inwards
our vector outwards
we make machines
we think electric
we jam the doorways
we thrive on speed
we dine on visions
we drink hydrocarbons
we taste combustion
we smell exhaustion
we burn our fingers
we save the ashes
we live in motion
we die in steel

October 18, 1975

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