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    Machines churned, today was the day of
release. Rust long over looked, an oily rag of
inherited paternalship stuffed here and there. An ill-
fitting beating of a screw into an area of a plate
that was meant for none. Gears grinded on metal.
Abused squealings of pressure valves and pipes rattled
the earth with their tortured release.
    Among these machines, buzzing engineers and
mechanics monitored. With lizard fists they jabbed
pencils into holes, wood into gears, and finally coal
into the forced mouths of these machines.

The machines were made for working

    The machines orgasmed with new fuel. Heat and
explosions shook the room. This coal was their's, it
would be their mirror.

Very few survived the climax.
     Such an orgy is becoming common.
     What is natural is a mirror of -
                                  -we were taught....

pain.


    If you took a lemon, and squeezed it
    Into a cup of water. They would mix

        If you took a cup of water
        And removed the liquid.
        Then squeezed the lemon...


    Painted walls express the emotions they are covered with
in. Snakes, we paint the walls with our tongues
and fermented minds.


        Dripping with our honey...
        Stagnant droops of flesh
        Home sweet home.

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