Exquisite Storm: Be My Blood factory

An Exquisite Corpse (so named by the Surrealists) is a “found poem” made up of disconnected parts, but we prefer to call it the Exquisite Storm. Each writer in our Saturday Prompt of the Week session offered one line from the 10-minute piece they generated. The title “Be My Magic Book Factory” comes from the first line spoken by Arlene Shapiro.

Be my blood factory, human machine of brute strength
and communion with Midheaven. It's a nightmare— Eastern
Standard Time—wafted it on clouds of smoke and invention.
There was wiggle room in the laws of physics when it came to
fresh tortillas. Their brute strength, uncompensated sweat,
and magic blood wrought ghostly gain on their backs.
Do they even know of what they build? Fabric of love
is self-made. Thickened air, cold, no matter how obscure
this is—we are Mexicans. The weight of the world measured
out one weapon at a time, and lives be damned to craft
the wiggle room for another deal. A flagrant filigree
that brooks no finesse, rather crafts majesty out of the spin
cycle of lost lofty loves. Complex system of heaven, beating
earth, the heavy work of gravity, pulling you back to muscles
and bones, back with no place to rest in weightless life.
Food for the Revolution. She wrote her ode to the momentary
joy in that tiny piece of stone. Stories of brute strength that rise
like cold steel. I'm going to have to turn to the page soon on
these Mexican gods—puzzle pieces with smokestacks.
The poker chips of politicians laughing with our lives at stake.

ORDER OF SPEAKERS
Arlene Shapiro, Marianne Furedi, Allegra Huston, Esme Olivia, Kathleen Wilson, Martin Dilger, Rick Kobayashi, Maria Wasson,
Maria Eugenia Ortega, Katerina Tana, Genevia Hendry, Susie Shipman, Jocelyn Wasson, Barbara Benedict, James Navé, Linda Smith, Arlene Burns,