indistinguishable days (American Sonnet)

juxtaposed forces working against each other have bound up the works
we're still burning fuel, but nothing nothing gets done
i could turn the damned thing off and get the same result

everything groans under heavy torsion
yet the machine does not produce a thing but rust and grime

you can feel the tension if you come close
just watch where you put your fingers
teeth break from blackened gears and sudden shifts spook me

when this baby finally lets loose again
then you'll hear that old flywheel sing

i remember when it was new
and still had the stickers on it

yup, i'm gonna find that sabot
someday