The smell of chrome
is strongest near the rust
and where the rubber
bullets used to be,
more nipples
than weapons,
though to some,
both are the same.
I run my nose close,
not touching,
the brown crusty rings
in the gleam,
and up the side,
where the thin spray
rises to a glorious tail fin.
And smell is strong enough
to carry me
back fifty years.
Published on January 23, 2016 03:30