Stamp Stamp
Clunk Clunk
Raw materials rolling down the line
Robotic tools play a syncopated rhythm
Like doing the Charleston, but overtime
Safety glasses
Smocked workers
Each person plays a part
More shapeless than flapper dresses
Routine movements once they start
Baking ovens
Spraying nozzles
Hoods to suck away each fume
But still the odors linger
Like residual smoke and fake perfume
Final stages
Quality check
Tubes and hoses to fill each tin
Rattling bottles and shaking cans
Like jostling dancers lining up for cheap gin
Shift ends
Boxes sealed
To locker rooms, the workers retreat
Changing clothes, they joke and grouse
Too tired to feel the close body heat
by Christy Noel
4/11/03