Thursday, January 27, 2011

Poem- Ex-factory

He says,"I have no job
and people play with my life"
So I ask about power.
Does he feel connected?
"No" he says "there is no
direction for me to go.
And I don't see how
to get there from here.
wouldn't that need power?"
I sense where this will go,
so I ask what he has learned,
which gets a short sharp
Underlining my problem
because how can I help?
In a pale green room
we talk, or he does.
Different people do the same
in the room next door.
Where, also,
nothing is happening.
He gets up to go and
says he likes our talks.
While in my head I shout
"I can't help you!"
But I smile, shake hands,
see him out and then look around.
At the hopeful cases.


merc said...

I like this best of all.

Another Kiwi said...


ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© said...

This is a fine poem, A.K.

I'd like it even more if you would stop talking about me out loud on the internets.

I could bribe you with a bunny picture?

Another Kiwi said...

I want a fish Tomato picture. But thanks for your kind comments and I will be more circumspect in my ravings.

Substance McGravitas said...

Long ago I was a shop steward and had to be there in the room as a long line of people got told they had been laid off by a really stupid and shitty management team.

There was no concrete help to be given other than apprising people of their rights, but most folks really do appreciate an opportunity to unload.