cold environment
always thirty four degrees
lots of clothing worn
All Things Are Temporary
Written: by Tom Wright
4/8/2017
Sitting in the reticence of the moment,
I examine my real world.
While drowning in an ocean of thoughts;
My mind is deluged with but one;
That I am only here temporarily,
Walking through days of accomplishments,
And disappointments;
We’ve toiled to produce, and accumulate,
Warehousing things for the delight of others;
Life is a Picnic
Written: by Tom Wright
February 2015
My life,
Has been filled with Gourmet meals,
Which often I’ve left plated.
While, like Ants,
I’ve been content in busying myself,
With warehousing the crumbs,
And occasionally I’ve smiled.
warehousing men gather like fish in the hulls of ships,
with carhart's for scales. they steeltoe streamline down to the docks,
each in turn with camel ciggerettes in thier gills.
mechanically downshifting through diesel juggulars
saturated in thick black coffee, they speak in tongues of angels
choke.......cry...... and curse.
breathing cold air mixed with the smell of dusty wooden pallets.
stacked unevenly like crooked steps in jacobs ladder,
that do not lead to heaven but maybe another smoke break.
inhale.. exhale... import.. export...
they offer thier prayers to the rain soaked sheetmetal gods.
down where watery ports corrode away railways the rust
is crushed and sold as healing balm for the nations.
early in the morning you can see them the
iron origami cranes folding cold and hollow,
beautifying the mens heavy industrial brows.
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