Gremlin in the Engine (2002)
You are now free to move around the debris field...
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Gremlin in the EngineBeneath the rewired ribcage, ping!Is it a burble or is it thrombosis?The coolant plummets below freezing;Pistons creak and groan for oil.Pitches and plunks in the wheezingBecome unclear when you are the engine.In the caverns of these gremlinsTrombones compete with bassoons.Sonorities cannot plunge deeply enoughTo map networks of dark lungs.The huge corpus lurches upwardsFlapping spindly prongs for wings.Legs swell like sponges and flounderUpon wildly spun serrated fronds.Somewhere inside, a cackle cracksThe apricot open with a squishy ping! [Disposable Poem February 9, 2007]
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