Furnace

They cut the heart out.
Hauled it away.
Iron cast nerves
​Of sheet metal grey.

Lag bolts and valves
Flanges and fans,
Motors erased now,
Once spun and ran.

Out in day light
Pale green tower.
This house held its' breath
For a chilly blue hour.

Forty full years
Of cigarette fumes,
Sorrowful echoes,
Neapolitan tunes.

Housework and homework.
Rattled its’ core.
Family folk rhythms
Beat solemn no more.

Capillaries, arteries
Coiled the frame
Gasping and hissing,
Whispering warm names.

Inhaling the sighs
Of dusted, swept rooms.
Does it now matter?
For what and to whom?

On sidewalk stretched out,
Pulled away from its’ pedestal.
Naked and feeble
For neighbors to ogle.

I remember its’ father,
A hulking ore octopus.
Now it’s successor,
A soldier, much lesser.

When baby arrived,
Cradled into the cavity,
It warmed once again
Pushing heat against gravity.

But the echo and tone,
of a one handed clap,
proclaimed my warm heart
Was now left for scrap.


3/8/21