After All, You're the Only One Who Can Turn Me On...

(Iron Workers Memorial)


Steel cages to bind
the river with architectural obedience;
high up on garters
strung tight
she whimpers
under the cargo

the wind whips her lace
tattering the blinking lights
against the clouds

and from pediments we taunt;
come now
fall, thrash us to the gray water
of our disillusionment

prove yourself unworthy
of this grace

woman

those broken backs
of men
who made you
forged the raw
molten earth
to carve your name
in the sky,
echo your curved back

papers
blue and black streamers
ribbon cutting
the mayor,
we celebrate her wanton ways

and this beautiful iron whore
with her thighs spread
welcomes you
to an emerald city.