Carbon Skin 
by Adam Engel
www.dissidentvoice.org
December 12, 2006



 

Transformed utterly, utterly transformed: 
rocks, trees, grainy  waves of amber 
Mother six feet under 
carbon skin 
that car 
I'd  saved pennies (melt like 
snowflakes on a griddle) 
to possess 
my high-school sweet-heart's teenage girls 
my childless wife 
my instamatic color flash 
color-bled, counterfeit  Suns -- 
overexposed 
 
idiots with matches playing god 
in sudden empty; 
silent breathless; 
charred black Dawn. 
 
The Sun also rises, 
also, also, again, again, 
concealed by heavy metal clouds 
warped woof of air dense 
particles of grime: 
hands wove this, fingers of men 
who have no hands now, none 
that  eyes might know 
 
Transformed utterly, utterly transformed: 
muck turds of coal; 
big ol'  marshmallow 
gobbled by flame: 
 
spit on the ashes, 
douse  hot  rocks. 
Cold, soot, mud.


Adam Engel can be reached at: bartleby.samsa@verizon.net.

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