Carl Watts

Two poems

Vintage Metal

vintage metal tins in iTunes
sour ends like blood or B12 supplements
iron ass-shots mom got
yet mostly what was spinning in my Discman

back then in the back of our four-door
drowning out fighting with Smashing Pumpkins
doubling down in mid-career, crawling from forge
to table, mini-Moloch’s ignorant alloy

automatic transmission accompanying
my own anemia’s antecedents

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