Long Long Time

Long Long Time

In my upstairs work area
at the old Jordan Mill
looking out the window
overlooking the river.

I heard the siren blow
I saw the black funnel crossing over
with a howling sound
like "Here comes my train."

The storm was blasting
outside of the second floor.
The dust then circled
and settled on the floor.

The ceiling spun
into chopped hunks
busted at my feet.
Whatever was happening
the chaos was complete.
So I left
and took the future with me.

The winds were huffing
sideways wet air all about,
I sat in the smoking booth
on the second floor looking out.

Shipping through the device
bale after bale
passes through.

On a twelve hour shift
I'd stand and watch them roll past
from one hopper
to the other.

I'd been up and down old Broadway
trying to sell my wares,
while the ladies have no time for me
or for any of my cares.
So I left
and took the future with me.

Te orange of the sun
shined down on the Earth
through black clouds
and more of that sideways rain.
"The Devil's beating his wife."

I adjusted the mechanism
when it became too speedy
or I needed a smoke break
or an elevator haul.

Switching empty carts
for full
or vise versa
postponed to the night.

Near the window where the light was
dust particles sparkled
all that history
what was it worth?

On the assembly line
at the old factory
where I worked for nearly a decade.

Before I jumped the fence
before they chained the gates
each day was basically the same.

The belt was moving fast
I registered,
poured a coffee
and punched a code on the buttons
on that heavy green machine.

Waited for the conveyor belt
to roll down
another bale of cotton.

Shipping through the device
bale after bale
passes through.

On a twelve hour shift
I'd stand and watch them
roll past
from one to the other.

Winter of 1984-85
was a cold one.
Just the mention
of those digits
take me back
in fascination
on that dark infatuation
of that era.

Visions of boots
stomping in the mud
the belt was moving fast
moving like it should.

I registered
and poured a coffee
punched a code on the buttons
on that heavy green machine.

First minutes of the year 1985
and we saw Tom Snelling
swung in a Judo move
by a Denny's waitress.

The girl indeed knew her moves
Tom on the carpet
we all laughed with kudos
and took a booth
in the Smoking Section.

Later back at the Mill
as the hours passed
slowly on a graveyard shift
to keep the mechanism moving.

Fascination or discovery
everything was ordered.
Then I left
and took the future with me.

-Will Dockery (1977/2019)