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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: A Sketch Of A Hot Day At A Southern Manufacturing dots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: JoshusDog
    Elite Ratio:    0.7 - 0/2/6
    Words: 431
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 525
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 3231



    Description:
       Jack Kerouac is an influence. He essentially perfected the Sketch as a long form haiku. (Not really in form so much as in spirit)


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsA Sketch Of A Hot Day At A Southern Manufacturing dots
    -------------------------------------------





    Grey and white clouds

    half cover blue skys

    and magnify the June sun.

    The deafening racket

    of the unceasing operations

    of the furnaces, grinders,

    and various other

    dangerous machines

    inside the plant

    blend into a distant,

    static white noise

    that can be continually heard

    from the smoke hut outside.

    A man

    wearing a black cap

    with red lettering

    that says PING,

    converses passionately

    with a starnger

    on his cellular phone.

    A stranger to me,

    but someone

    important to him.

    Another man,

    the shotblast operator,

    smokes a cigarette

    and francticly

    taps his foot.

    The hot air

    is thick

    with moisture,

    a calm reminder

    of yesterday's violent

    storm. Trees bent

    by harsh winds

    and drowning

    torrents or rain.

    Huge bolt lightening

    blinding eyes.

    Vibrations

    of thundershocks

    shattering stillness

    of concrete floors.

    But now,

    only muggy overcast

    day clouds are

    in the sky. Crowds

    in the canteens

    gather for free,

    mediocre coffee

    from the machines.

    Caffeine jolts

    to drive

    the industrial machine.

    Not stale,

    but dry,

    sandwiches

    feed oil stained

    men and women

    ritualistically

    meeting with

    their friends

    at tables,

    as they have

    for years.

    Talks of crazy

    politicians,

    oil wars,

    the end of existance,

    tomato gardens,

    flowers,

    and disrespectful

    children poisoned

    by popular culture.

    Dirty floors

    and tables,

    swept clean and

    continuously dirtied.

    No unions here

    in this plant

    nestled safely

    in a right-to-work state.

    No collectives

    allowed outside

    of church and lodges.

    Loud buzzers

    shout periodically

    to mark times

    and rouse

    sleeping minds.

    Tasks appointed

    for arcane

    circular purposes.

    Do,

    undo work.

    Feed the

    machine.





    Submitted on 2009-01-27 13:10:25     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!




    ||| Comments |||
      Did you write this? If so it is amazing. What a wonderful use of imagery! This reminds me a little of the mills that Stephen King describes in his book "On Writing". This really shows the monotony that people feel when working in a factory. The words you use create an intriguing mental picture.
    ~Rachelle
    | Posted on 2009-01-27 00:00:00 | by Priestess | [ Reply to This ]

    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.

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