first breath of invention,
the manmade learns to
defy its maker:
Frankenstein,
factories of fabric, plastic suffocation,
the soft snow shedding from slim pills,
the cooling metal of
the blade -
the wheel:
The clouds squint, but only a few drops fall. My father crouches under the car. I lean against another and watch the turning metal wean off the clinging screws - a loosening of the tight, an undoing of the knot. Almost relaxing, I think.
He tugs the tire. The semi-squashed, semi-deflated rubber does not respond.
He tries again. Then he prods with a metal rod, coaxing the wheel, trying to persuade without force.
The wheels watches. Waits.
Relents.
Rolls crookedly, spitefully, mockingly - Look what you have made me.
--
Strange to say, but it's really, genuinely good to be home.
I think I have an idea of what I want to do, which of course involves more paperwork - but I think it is reasonable enough to all those with vested interests.
I know exactly what I want to prove, but I do not know if I will see that confirmed. My mind comes to contradicting conclusions. The only answer that comes to mind is Time.
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