I filter water for the cats.
They refuse to imbibe auburn
beverages, but I want to chug rust.
I donít mind my digestive
system oxidizing. I clink.
I wake next to a corroded metal man.
He clangs and squeaks.
We oxidize together. A cozy corrosion,
my household serene with lockjaw.
A visit to our house includes a tetanus shot.
My mom revealed my childhood of anemia.
Metal suits me. I donít feel tired anymore.
Although I skipped the iron phase,
rust retains a memory. I never miss
being shiny, so sick of gleaming.
Valerie Loveland is the author of Reanimated, Somehow (Scrambler Books, 2009). She works as an optician apprentice in Acton, MA.