- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The Blacksmith
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My fingertips are hammers
And these keys are anvils
I hammer out this work
While ideas fly off like sparks
Sacrificed
I am left with this piece of hard metal
Heavy and thick
It is strong and clumsy
It may be wielded however
I must learn to possess the strength to slay with it
The heat of the fire glows all over me
I am lit up in the red light
I am sunburned by the heat inside this room
Radiating from the monitor
I sweat
I am fatigued but I continue
Until the work is done
And I can lay it in the cooling water
Watch the steam rise off it
And hold it up for all to see
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