Wednesday, September 5, 2012

workin' in a coal mine

Coal Face

Here at the coal face the seam shimmers up
in the still pool of the lamps presenting
yet another round with the Magic Eight
Ball’s relentless icosahedral die,
insistent invitation to weigh in,

wield taped worn handles, bash scarred knuckle meat
against the low ceiling, advance and shore
advance and shore ahead of the dirty
gondola ferrying moments away
on a rail, fueling the flare of the here

and now, consumed in the ash of the past,
future a myth of clean combustion, we  
yearn for one more furious turn with the
ball, the message hazy, a whispered "ask
again later" floating up into view. 

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