Paul Skirm

Turning The Hub of Mind

extinction waits for me in steel-girded remains disappearing into the Lorain Ohio
black river rocky wall I hear
the carotid whistle of the devil's train
barrelin' on rumbling down the Lake Terminal line my
heart tied to the iron ore & limestone
fillin' my bucket here in this 20-ton Hulett, extinction waits for me.

the horror of hydraulic chorus preys for blisters to fester, digs with rancid claws
& Her belly fans apart like the bridge across river
drawing apart His bones for the rigs to enter port
vivifying the fruit of Her shrouding petals -
open & receive, close & transport, open & deposit;
receive transport deposit.
the seed the hand the womb.

when clenched, the hand becomes axe & when opened the hand is a raft;
realize the raft can not be shaped without first chopping wood

no shovelers today
the hull is hot.

Next week I hit the rails again, Bessemer east to Conneaut and the P & C dock -
limestone.

two trucks above me, girders & towers above them - walking beam sweeps the sky -
old bones fall from the rafters of cloud like rats.

I watch the sun circle behind and burst out in flecks;
thousands of steel spokes converge from beam to beam

it's the emptiness ya see,
it the emptiness that makes this machine work