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Bob Wayne

poet, writer, memoirist


Assembly Line Blues

by | May 19, 2023 | Poetry | 0 comments


Two joints before first shift,

recovery from last night,

lube the line.


Two joints and a six pack for lunch,

carcass in a sardine can.

Locked out of emotion,

boxed in by screaming yellow lines.


Two six packs

and a handful of joints for dinner,

pummel the dreams…


Unwound clockwork,

buying days off from crooked doctors.

Horrified by thirty-year stares of rivetheads,

washed out like dingy jeans

tossed by Goodwill.



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