A GOD MADE OF WHITE-HOT FLAME I never thought I would stand in front of this machine and write about it Homer had his giant cyclops and Poseidon Dante 9 circles of Hell Hemingway WW1 we machinists have been reduced to timeclock ticks and brown cutting fluid brushed onto smoking steel we have worn trails into concrete floors circling our machines singing off-key songs for decades Columbus sailed toward a new world we stare at blank tin walls there is no enigmatic Mona Lisa smile on our face to be captured by Da Vinci yet we are here real as steel-toed boots and the stars our battle fought with micrometer and hammer and back muscle everyman with each breath and step carving steel into cities and telescopes no Zeus watches us no history page turns on what we do common as wild poppies and heartbeats and shovelfuls of dirt heaved into graves and grandchildren with glowing eyes full of wild tomorrows we are train rail clock dial bucket handle crane hook piano wire crank faucet key doorknob smokestack wire brush bolt rivet nail elbow hip toe number balance gear and grip circling hawk horns of moon heel and ball of foot decimal and drop of oil swing and sweep and roll and punch 2-ton drop hammer smash and delicate machinist touch we are this universe exploding out of nothing yet solid as a screw in the palm pull and lift and wrestle and sweat we are this poem bright as any god and hot as a blast furnace.
Fred Voss has had three collections of poetry published by Bloodaxe Books (UK), the latest of which, Hammers and Hearts of the Gods, was selected as Book of the Year 2009 by The Morning Star (UK) and was reprinted by Pearl Editions (Long Beach, CA). It is available on Amazon, along with his first novel, Making America Strong.
All rights © Fred Voss
a moon of one's own 