on earth, where moth and rust
destroy, all things we
touch turn to virus,
sour blood red orange acid,
oxidizing my iron so it can't
sharpen anything else.
like a crippled king midas,
with no one to chide us -
where was the treasure before
the gold? can't remember.
now all we see is our
reflection in a shiny shallow
surface.
and the acid virus corrodes,
and my iron heart implodes.
stop the blood pumping, the
oxidation is my oxygenation -
they're the same thing,
one's just a bit lukewarm,
but i can take it.
as long as i'm fed my acid
virus vitamins by my reflection
in the gold, i can ignore the
rust below the surface
scratching, grating, weathering
my insides,
eroding my hots,
my colds,
leaving the sludge that's
left when the steam
disappears
from this earth, where moths destroy.
where time is all our enemy
unless we're counting down instead
of up.
unless.
unless.
we give it back.
reject the virus.
spew it from our mouths,
melt our reflection in the gold,
pour it into a new mold,
white hot heat
to form a new treasure.
finding value in the rust,
the sharper insides we can trust.
stop pointing our fingers assigning
worth, stop touching
creation with out alchemy.
gold sharpens nothing but
our narcissism,
but the immune system of
three bodies is not easily broken.
on earth where rust endures
more than flesh, where flesh
itself is lukewarm, destroyed
by the acid, attacked by the
virus - but our rusty hearts,
those are the parts that aren't
destroyed. what does ruse do
to rust? nothing. but wait out
the storm, as the temperature
goes higher.
and the fever breaks, and we break,
and our hearts break. and the
dams on our tears break, and all
those salty splinters come out,
and king midas is a peasant.
and his treasure is gone.
but it took the virus with it.
and his new treasure, his plight,
serves all - the anti-biotic of purpose.
the beauty in a brown-gray
moth, the healing powers
of rust blood on its wings,
these are what midas wants to
touch - and his dirt-covered
fingers now cleaner than
he ever saw them before,
leaving the earth, learning
his worth, as moth and rust
destroy around
about outside
west eastside
north southside
but not ever again inside
his sharpened iron heart.
