Our Smoldering Factory Town
Our Smoldering Factory Town
free trade, a brick around
It’s gurgling, swollen neck. Surrounding
gray quiet smolder, evokes,
Once thriving factory smoke
A Crumbling horoscope
once paid it's worker's, soaked
in quiet desperation.
We are it's rusty antiques
sinking ships on outsourced seas
a swollen, bailout casualty
a fallow field, a dustbowl breeze
While children sew our sneakers
In bananna sweatshops, cheaper
hands can make, children's fate
wont matter, they'll dig deeper.
Copyright © Dimestore Shoes | Year Posted 2009
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment