Himself a machine,
Like a cool train
Like a moving rollercoaster
Like a ravaging mechanical animal

Iron oil and rust,
Pulsating boiling blood
Bursting brilliantly.

sea, strange
ghost of
ghostly iron,

blue star of
sea-song,

love in your
song of ghosts,
in your ghostly
irons,

clouds darker
than the sea's
stark iron, their
ghosts the sweet
breathed mist,
their ghosts
the ghostly iron,

the sea, crashing
wild and iron-like,
the tide's ghost
also iron,

wind, wild and
high like a cindery
bird, caught in
the irons of the day,
metal star of the breezes.

light,
sense of shelter,
ghost of grey
smouldering,
little sky of
iron, heart-beat
like a ghost,
heart-beat singing
of love.

They say Cover it up now
Make it look the same as all the other manufactured bodies,
Being pumped into this assembly line world,
But my body is not the same as those,
It is soft and made of silk in an iron factory,
And the cold metal burns my skin.

Because I have the right to bear arms but not to bare arms,
Telling me that the guns that ****** are the only thing I am allowed to have,
And even though my body is hot hot hot, it will never be killer.

And you tell me that I am like the guns sitting in a shop waiting to be picked out, grabbed, paid for,
Except I'm worth less and and worthless and more disposable
Telling me I'm all hormones and ***** moans
Telling me that I am yours.

But I am not yours,
I am the little schoolgirls with battery acid thrown in their faces
Touched by hands that harm not help
Little schoolgirls that get you big angry ***** shoved into them
Ripping apart their hearts and bodies.

But I am not yours,
I am not even mine,
I am in the freedom,
And that freedom is not in your guns or your yells or your stars,
That freedom is in the plant pushing out the iron girls, girls, girls,

Pushing them out into your world
The world that belongs to you because you claim it
But you're no match for the iron girls and their metal hearts
Taking everything you have and have had
And making it theirs, theirs, theirs

I like the colour purple,
     as it blooms across my skin,
The delicate spread of lavender,
     dappled with yellow and green.

I like the smell of iron,
     of copper pennies and blood
As it oozes form a scab
     or drips from a fresh cut.

I like the feel of my ribs,
     the bones beneath my skin,
The curve of my skull under my cheek,
     Or the joints of every knuckle.

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.

the cut of Iron of my finger
on my tongue.
a slice/ a tinge * of Iron.
on my tongue.

lap its sharp
it leaks again.

of Iron which skin it parts

let it be

it rusts.
a crusty Iron.

dare it bid me bitter bites.

I almost made it to the finish line
but somewhere along I took a wrong turn
segregation’s aftermath still lingering

self inflicted prejudice over one’s skin abstained
self antagonism over one’s curl pattern deeply rooted
self oppugnancy over one’s own race persistent

I know I’m not on the right course
yet blindly I continue
shackling the dependent to me
as i spiral down this cascade

too intimidated to speak out
too worried about social acceptance
too cowardly to admit it

taught that color coding is inferior
but favoritism to a specific color is acceptable


I see police brutality to a specific race
whereas other countries see
Americans killing other Americans

Republicans and Democrats both preach unity
Yet stand divided in one house
but I’m in constant denial
because I was raised as a hypocrite

I want change
but only half of me is willing to fish for that change

it wasn't always the way
minorities didn’t have a voice
so they fought for one

generations later they hoard that voice
locked in a shed
collecting dust

My people have the tools
therefore
don't be fooled
because it’s only a matter of time
before they put them to use
and mold a beautiful sculpture

Iron and steel hugging the sky
Footsteps on the sidewalk all faded black
The train and cars are rushing by
With faces that are never coming back

The lights never die, the frost takes hold
Sitting on the corner of the block
Clutching my paper cup in the cold
The people always pass, but they never stop

Iron and steel hugging the sky
The rays of sun are so far above
Watching the pigeons as they try to fly
Sitting on the pavement waiting for love

The lights never die, I breathe in the air
Shadows of hope grants me some bread
They wonder how much longer I'll be sitting here
and I´m thinking maybe until I'm dead

Iron and steel hugging the sky
I'm just dealing with the hand I was dealt
Been long since I stopped asking myself why
Now I just worry about when the snow will melt

The lights never die, another coin in my cup
I smile as she disappears into the crowd
Thank you my dear, but it´s never enough
The shouts from the penniless are always too loud

A brother from another mother.
Nuff said.