I spy something
Murky red
And in the
Bottom of my cup.
I wash it down with
Something less than
Reluctant
While leaving the
Rust,
Or assumed iron,
To chance,
This one chance
And not to be
Repeated.

Tomorrow,
Now today,
I spy something
Murky red,
Once more tomorrow,
Tomorrow’s tomorrow,
Again and again
And day after days,
Rusty red
In the bottom of my
Cup –
I grow paranoid.

I empty the
“Keep,”
And creep into every
***,
Tea-***,
Pan and/or
Cooking tool
Seeking
Threatening material,
Foreign material,
And lodged in my brain
Material.

So too,
Amid my investigations,
I’d discovered
Alzheimer’s,
Dementia,
Blindness,
A stroke or two,
And in some cases
Death
Had you ingested enough
Ore,
Or so I’ve heard.

I spy
Metal flakes
Atop
Metal constructs,
Heavy,
Soft, caustic,
And broken post
Point-of-sale,
Broken
And now in me,
Circulating through my –
Spleen,
Kidney
And brain.

I’ve developed a
Phobia
For unwanted edible metal,
A curious
Cereal
Resulting from the
Cartoon
Of my
Dying grandfather,
Once an architect,
Now ten minutes to
Tie shoes –
A brain hemorrhaged
Iron, I’m sure of it.

T'was the day before aluminum.
And all through the towns
Steel fantasies did roam,
All finny at thousands of pounds.

Lots of metal, heavy and sculpted.
No custom kits, just regular Detroit iron,
The Mesabi Iron Range leveled and scalped.

Fins, I say, fin, fins and finny.
You could stab yourself on a '57 Chevie!

Sleek, but massive,
Caddie fins with bullet tail lights
Rare Edsels and Packards

Thunderbirds, killer headlights to match the fins
Remember the Rambler!

Knife edges everywhere, the Studebaker Fury
Corvettes, vruum, vruum, VRUUUM.

Beloved Impalas, Rocket 88's,
Imperials and Mark III Continentals

Where did we go in these steel confections...
Drive-ins, both food and movie,
Down Main Street to be seen,
Back to be seen again, groovy

We had pimples and ducktails, 
hoping to meet girls,
but the cars had fins of steel!
And they were the magnets.