factory work

the “safety” goggles leave imprints
on my nose and forehead,
but i chug along, putting the
pieces together, into the box
along the assembly line,
staring at the clock on the wall,
looking forward to the first break
of the day. (vape time)

the break alarm sings its disgusting melody
and we all head back to our positions:
scoop, wrap, package, tape, cut;
scoop, wrap, package, tape, cut.

fuck it;
cut my wrists,
tape my mouth shut,
package my body,
wrap it like a mummy,
and scoop shit and dirt on my dead carcass.

fertilizer for the next proletariat in line.

Published by

jonathandeanrichie

Currently living in Vietnam, teaching English, fixing the world's problems.

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