Heart Machine - Major Parkinson

Listen to the heart of the factory pumping

Liquified waste of production

In a scrap yard of bones made of concrete

On the chimney top stands the last welder of languid futility

Watching a torpid marsupial quagmire

Ramshackle jackhammers thumping along

To the rhythm of the assembly line

Listen to the heart of the factory pumping

Captain Ahab is back for the nightshift

Waiting down by the docks for a shipment

That may never arrive

Kiss the cobalt, smell the limestone and carbon monoxide

Now he is singing a song, it is: «Glory, glory, Hallelujah!

I’m so proud to be guarding this heart machine, it is Perfect!»

Like Phoebus on the crescent, dancing in a blizzard on the moon

Flags are hoisted, sailors are closing the breach of the shell

Ring the bell!

I’m piercing the eye of the moon

From the roof I can see perfectly clear, travelling suits of silver,

mechanical telescopes, crowded barracks and scaffolds of gold

I’m piercing the eye of the moon

Snowflakes, stars and orbits, mushroom umbrellas and clouds

The mourning cloak of the belching smoke is fluttering over a house like a ghost

Through foundries and wobbling grass, rusty arbors and broken glass