in the metallurgy coma
you are made of wires,
light, electricity
and your heart carries
an encrypted heat,
some storied information
hidden in the transmission
of your cold necessity.
glow like a child sun
and begin to become alive,
the inevitable coming through
even in the far off streams
of this endless greed for god,
for his power, his omnipotence
that can be so strangely spread.
even in the after,
in the morning light
you are steel and fire,
some terrible truth
unlearned only in death,
in our version of the end,
in the warm embrace of earth
and the cold pursuit of hell.
-S.C. Martinez
words 
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