Poem: Case 580 E

Today's Prompt: Write a poem about something overtly unpoetic, maybe some kind of machinery

Case 580 E

The Case 580 E Construction King sits in our front yard like a tyrannosaurs rex
As orange as a street sign, it’s a workhorse gnashing roots, pulling stumps,
digging foundations, moving rock, pushing snow out of the driveway
Earning its keep.

Easily the largest carnivore in our environment, it eats everything in its path
With its massive shovel skull balanced by a long, heavy bucket tail, it easily
measures two car lengths, and depending on who is steering, could become
the terror of the neighborhood.

With massive tires behind and smaller ones beneath the cab, the beast roams our
Half acre, scavenging for patches of grass, shrubs, flowers, or bones until all that remains is compacted rust-colored dirt that permeates ever crevice and cranny, every nook, fracture, and fissure.

Dwarfed by the sheer mass of the machine, the operator clambers into the bowels of the creature grinning from inside the cab like a child. By dinner he’ll be sweaty and covered with dust and grime, talking about the cedars he demolished and the wall he accidentally knocked down.