goat horns

sliced off tips of chipping hammers
washers welded and quenched
before the fibremetal of my hardhat could react
discontented, disgruntled, unimpressed
welders we are but welding we are not
bone-z says to me
goat you get your horns tonight
as he sits buddha-esque
in the center of an unwelded deck insert
steaming slightly i place my new horns upon my head
not yet! he shouts snatching them away
and smashing the tips against the deck
once, twice, three times they ring out
sparks fly but there is no damage
and satisfied he places the hat with the horns upon my head
boat boy for a decade, its time you grew some horns
scratching paint idly, i listen as norm tells us the nights work
and try not to snicker as he wonders where the tips have gone
off all his chipping hammers.