today's poem was published in June 1997 - by Studio One, another small press 'zine. again - support those small presses in any way you can. the poem is much older than '97, written in the 80's sometime, but can't recall when anymore.
some updates - just finished a lovely 11 out of 12 day/night run at the olde papermill ... burnt out and tired ... and they weren't exactly the best days - production wise. LOADS of problems, but in a couple of weeks we have a major outage, where lots of repair work is scheduled, so maybe the machine will run better (and oh joy - faster!).
and we have a contract offer. very strange that no union official will talk about it at all. it is required to go to the union hall on one of two days this week (Tuesday and Wednesday) and hear the Union Rep that negotiated the deal before we even get informational packets. i have no doubt the package will be to accepted, based on the fiasco of the last 6+ years after the last negotiations and strike of 2001. so, as of now, all we know is we have an offer .... absolutely no details. swell.
anyway - onto some old poetry ....
FOG OF DOUBT
Lazerus i whispered Lazerus it is time.
His eyes were hard, cold as stone.
His flesh was hard and smelled of death.
Lazerus i whispered Lazerus, Jesus is here.
There was no pulse.
There was no breath.
He looked impatient.
Well, is he coming around or not, he asked.
i looked at Jesus and said
It doesn't look like it.
Lazerus i whispered Lazerus.
Jesus looked at his hands.
I don't understand it he whispered
It worked last time
and he walked off into a fog of doubt.
the poetry and rambling thoughts of a working class poet
