I can hear the gears cracking
little by little. The aroma of metal
and oil fills my nostrils and time slips
as the clock forgets its steps. What once
was a slow waltz is now a freestyle.
The other machines follow suit
with jagged movements. Mechanical
clunks now flooding into my ears; drowning
my thoughts like a white noise. Metal bending
and groaning as pipes above me shake
with screaming steam. The pressure reaches
a dangerous threshold before-- a pause. Like time
being frozen. Except for a drip from outside
that fizzes on the still hot pipes. Clunks
are now barely heard in the back.
It’s peaceful, isn’t it- this factory
at night. These machines used to dance
in unison, but all of the workers have clocked
out to rest. It was meant to be a break
to keep from breaking, but home
is a little too quiet- and thoughts
begin to boil over again.