O boy This is just what I wanted: Tired of the slow sculpting of water Taming my edges drop by drop, I was ready for abrasives the grinding stone the saw and the torch I wanted sparks to burn holes in my socks I wanted to feel my glazes curdle and drip in the heat. Now I've met steel My edges fall away from the blade I've been bent in the fire My head's drilled for bolts and I'm ready ready ready For the next dark visage behind a welder's mask