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The Factory I Sweat dreams of conveyer belts and sugar beets. Finding no method in this madness I dream of hefty paychecks that will come all too late. Bald men with funny hardhats tell the men, "It'll be better next year." A woman who has a saggy ass and a pierced eyebrow tells me, "No way I'm near that lime pit, either, man." Chew filled cheeks and angry bosses are all too familiar Buzz cuts and died hair surrounds me at lunchtime. Is this were rednecks go to die? "Probably." Transfers and vile threats fill my brain as the sun shines into my little dirty world. Lust and rumors surround me as I break all the freight elevators and pour more soda ash. Hitching a ride on my pant leg the soda ash makes me itch. Rain gear that makes me look like an oversized banana fills with sweat. Beans and the factory go together like water and lime, boiling over in my stomach. Evil fat men sit in their offices drinking coffee while I shovel beet parts up off of the ground for six hours. Hip wades and fire hoses cure the dirty dreams that fill my nights. Four feet of mud and sliced up beet parts make for one hell of a tasty stew. Grunt and sweat in a fog filled box to ride my paycheck all the way home. Contributed by: by BJH (PeteGus) <crazypetegus@yahoo.com> |