The Fairing came off again
Damn machine's getting old
I'll lose the arm if I keep this up
My work behind me, growing mold
I once had help in my dooming task
His smile traded to me in pay
He couldn't toss the dead with grace
The machine got Him yesterday
And in the rain, with the dead piled up
The machine grinds a song for solace
It's not their decay that makes them art
Frozen to the walls as reliefs in a palace
A life sentence chewing stiffs in the maw
Body after body, day after day
The machine and I know, in the fullness of time
It'll be my body the machine grinds away
A contest entry
- All day Quickie by Blue-Rose Beauty.
595 points, ended October 17, 7 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Like the machine slightly flawed, but lovely and gruesome
PS No more wire in the blud for ye laddie buck! -
Eh.. I don't get how it incorporates with the prompt except for being dangerous.
Nice work though, and it was a very strong description and imagery.
Thanks for entering, and good luck in my contest.
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