“machinery”
All is noise
Every frequency, from the low
To the shrill
The lights are white and harsh
The light itself seems tired
The floor is always cement and
Always stained with oil and dirt
Everything seems worn down
Patched over, made up, done
The air conditioner, a whistle
There is banging, slamming,
Clanging, thumping, buzzing,
Humming, beeping, metal on
Metal, metal on flesh, metal
On plastic, over and over and
All night long and all day long
The radios crackle, meaningless
Buttons pushed unknowingly
Indicator lights blink mindlessly
The parts roll off conveyors,
Are stacked, pallet by pallet,
Taken away by forklifts as
Dirty as everything else,
Belching clouds of fuel stink
Out their backsides, over to
Bay doors where big trucks
Come and take them away
Forever
This is the sound of money
Being made, but not for us
We are just part of the machinery
We are just another resource
We will be used up and thrown
Away someday too
Parts of a great engine spitting
Out pieces in a greater engine
On top of which sit people that
We’ve never met and never will
