i take my wrenches
brand new and gleaming
chiming like tuning forks
shining like suns
and disassemble these
clockwork angels
gears for guts
tightly-wound spring hearts
hollow aircraft grade aluminum bones
unseeing marbles embedded
in deep sockets
[they do not need to see–
they fly in darkness]
their oxyacetylene lungs
power their songs
their wings
their breath of fire
strewn about
their parts litter my garage floor
run your finger over
eight laid out in a row
and they ring
in the dorian mode
Words and Feathers 