a wire brush

the yellow backhoe sits in the weeds behind my apartment. it hasn't moved since last winter. the damp air is eating it alive. everything is turning a flaky orange. i took a wire brush out there today. i scraped at the hydraulic arm. red dust fell on my shoes. under the top layer was just more crust. the iron was pitted and gone. i threw the brush into the wet grass and went back through the screen door. my coffee was sitting on the counter. a fly was washing its legs on the rim.