When I Can't Fix The Broken

When with greasy fingers
and desperation
I give up
press myself against clumsy metal
thick buttress of forged iron ore
coiled springs sleeping slaves
collected w. murderer's intent
but bound
scum of a thousand miles
sediment telling tall tale of
the open road

when in old torn jeans
a white undershirt and
painter's stains
I relent
tattered knees
tattered heart
droll barefoot crawl to collect
chrome tools scattered
shed the skin of my effort
press my naked flesh to a new task
defeated orgasm

somber gray of my awkward flesh
burned umber at its center
and spent
inanimate collapse the cutlass
so prone to prick
now dulled deflated edge in varnished soot
a single tear for failure
in a withered spirit
I call the mechanic.

TA