Production Package

Chattering and slamming,
Overall donning,
Teeming women
Throng the locker area.

Another bus pulls up
Outside, another load
Spills into the plant
Yet more assembly-liners.

Darkness embraces the
Light-flooded lot all round.
Strange shadows cast no fear
In the hearts of these earners.

Production pays, and
Night is no barrier to
Industry which must go on,
Sucking them into its endless wake.

Factory Flocking

Quietly waiting, watching; obediently
Answering, asking; anxiously
Hoping and wondering,
Excitedly women.

What shift do you want?
Come back on the twenty-ninth.

Baby is crying, others take turn.
Small children see Mother
Find a place, resolute on
The dual income from need.

Can you wear a jump-suit?
Don't wear makeup.

Equal opportunity, no distinction.
The posh lobby is swarmingly full of
All colour of woman, prole line,
Factory flocking to apply.

Blue Building

The radio is softly playing
And late-stayers are some working,
Some bumming, boldly displaying
No fear of darkness lurking.

No one comes and no one leaves
As daylight silently removes
Its disregarded presence. Then conceives
Another world with other grooves

As each one
Carries on with confidence
Which used to set together with the sun.
Now lamps have their permanence

And time is created
To work, when we were meant
To rest; but time and light are such-wise related
Though no one asked from Nature her consent.

Hidden Away!

After they've brushed their teeth, the big ones run back to their room for bedtime prayers.

Sean goes in and doesn't see them anywhere. "Hmm, where are the children?" (loudly)

Lots of giggling, then a little voice from under the bed goes, "The children are not here!"