Oh, foil, in crumpled mass,
You shine the blight
Of chromium’s ass,
With rectitude,
And, aluminum laughter.

Ah, Chrome, your toted dome
Has expired in flight
Of future’s mass
Of fractitude,
As foil laughs...

Oh world, your peopled mass
Outshines the light
Of metallic glass,
With exemptitude,
As Chaos laughs.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 4/24/07