As If Engine

As If Engine

 

A wrench turns

in the turbine of dreams,

removing gears at will.

 

And yet,

ignition flares up

with an odd rumble,

steady as deceit.

 

Strange how hearts,

like engines with their parts

scattered, piston-shattered,

still beat a ragged tempo.

 

Cracked valves, springs awry,

each thump a miracle

in the machine shop

of our rib cages.