you can trust rust
rust is, well, sort of ...
menstrual;
in a, sort of, flow of time
sort of way.
a cleaning down
of yesterday’s hopes
in readiness.
ah! rediness
always make a joke about it,
the blushing at ready time.
but seriously,
bits fall off and pile up and
over time the thing is nothing,
no more the thing we thought.
you cannot polish rust,
you have to bang it off
with the brutalism of decision.
start to build a wall around it,
lay the foundation bolts shining
build the phoenix’s perch.
No comments:
Post a Comment