Watch as I tend
these ice-blue flames,
poking and prodding
every faltering gash.
Lean in as I expatriate the spark
and sizzle
of kindred combatants.
My hell-mouth
reeks
of animus.
Distillation by fire,
the hiss and whine
of the Great Machine,
its clunk and growl
of rotors and gears—
witness the mechanism
that grinds me down
deburrs every jagged seam
sucks out
every nib of defiance.
Bystander:
Observe the process
brooking
infinitesimal measures
of quality control
there are no standards, no specifications
yet it spits me out—
Go now. Figure out this life of yours.
—then damns me every time.
© 2022 Julie Allyn Johnson