Sacrifice Three

Belts provide us our work.
We screw, beat and bolt,
Hammers beneath the arc-light.
Incompletion delivered
And unfinished,
Moves on
Down the line.

Used to be, days would end.
There was sleep once,
Forgotten now, under fluorescence
Since they bricked up the windows,
And locked all the doors.
Management
Have taken our shoes.

The work mustn’t stop but
Rust fills the filthy air.
Wrinkled steel seizes
And buckles
And bends.
We are a plagued
By constant breakdowns.

Parts requested.

Donors needed.

New,
Bolted to old
And expected to work.
Glass grinds in the hinges,
Oil does nothing for the pain.
Replacements expected
Very soon.

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