The Welder

He is french pressed folgers and scally caps on cowlicks

Crows feet from when the welders mask was lifted to light

smoke after smoke

He is daily whiskey snifters in dank dark

Back to Pabst when the cash creek runs dry

Find yourself a scrappy girl, scrappy boy

Find yourself a free spirit to laugh

and lick those crumbs from your mustache

I might be fettered before better weather.

haunted by frostbite.

My lips are dry, they kiss copper wires

I ride in rain, my brakes squeak

I pick up strays but I hate small talk

The sheets are mismatched

I might as well say

but they haven't seen a sweat since before the wash

And I worry that my worth

will wane with my youth

My uniform is unpressed and unimpressive

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

geez this captivated me...every line is so deft with imagery and so smart in design and feeling.

we fight off aging...we do our best...and it's tough when that youth is still inside...just hard for others to see when the exterior starts to deteriorate...

j.

[M. Shepherd]

Gorsh thank you :)
For me it's a vicious war between the part of me that welcomes eagerly the cavalcade of time and its role in the cultivation of my art, wisdom and intuiton and the part of me that dreads the sound of its heavy footfalls in my direction as it means to rob me of my precious youth and all the glory that entails - strength, beauty, energy - though here I was more concerned about having been hired at my job for my vitality, and as I'm to watch it dwindle.. I have a long while before that, and it's also just a job, of which there are plenty. :)

[. serah .]

-- this is quite the portrait... -- heartfelt, detailed and captivating...