Thursday, January 17, 2008

"Migration" (part 2 of 8)

(part 2 of 8)

in place of my heart an engine

runs on processed crude

and drives me to

extremities of need,

freeways gun straight and hard

to the edge of continental dust,

10 million years’

migration and decay,

the gnaw of oceans,

sediment of bones and songs—

the throttle yawns

within my ribs,

distance is a stain

of engine oil,

avatar of sun

dug up in muck to burn

in a carburated cylinder

you spin to gamble

one bullet against one hope,

a roulette to see

who will fuck

who will climax

and who descends

thru brain pulp and metal junk

to where violence compends

in the rusting silence of machines,

how will you market it,

who’ll pay top dollar.


Every Friday for a total of 8 weeks I will post a section of a poem cycle called “Migration,” along with a painting of the same name. This week’s poetry selection explores the evolution of the human relationship to machines and industry. Please tune in every Friday to check out this work, and visit my painting website at

Scott Ezell

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

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