[“the metal’s difficult breathing / a metal infant is born” – Bei Dao]
His mom and dad had a difficult time loving this one, so stiff and unyielding, skin hard, shiny, cold.
As the metal infant grew, they grew to love him, and to worry. As part of their love. Most of it.
What he became, after he left home, they did not understand.
Where he had gone, when anyone asked, they said “he’s home,” not admitting that ‘home’ was a mystery he had not understood.
They watch the networks every day, now, relieved when their son is not mentioned.
As breaking news, anyway.
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Memorable Fancies 
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