Steel Poem by Michael Ardizzone

I see too much steel
but now plastic
but now the next plastic
painted to look like plastic
that looks like steel.

I see
too much steel, old steel,
machine-flesh crushed and bent,
twisted, reshaped to fit flesh
that already knows steel too well-
too warm to remain unbent,
too cool to ask questions.

I see
steel stretched in straight
parallel lines
hooked to one another
to the horizon (pulling
it towards where I am.)

I see

(in the desolation
of empty euphemisms
and neutral jargon)

that

We live in a tired steel time.
Worked and reworked,
we are quiet steel waiting
to be reshaped into
who we are.