Look I

I am thirty
Something
Cleaning up
Machine pieces
In diesel fuel when
I say to my father I am
Surprised the diesel fuel
Is clear as it smelled brown.
He looks up giving me the look
Of horror, but not for the first time,
He asks me how can diesel fuel
Smell brown or any color in his
Best engineering voice of
Rational thought and
Cool scientific logic
But I explain my
View is solely
Subjective
Which he
Accepts
As arts
Think
And thus
Irrelevant in
The real world
Of physics but his
Look of horror at my
Musings makes me smile
At his tolerance I do so admire.