another from Nov. 92 - the 92-95 era was one of my most prolific times. This poem expresses the way a lot of people seem to be feeling at work - as well as life in general.
No news from the reported sale of Weyco containerboard …. Things seem to be pretty much the same as before the announcement. Lots of concern, lots of uncertainty and simply nothing that resembles facts. Both Weyco and our dear loving union plan seminars on the retirement issues before the sale is finalized. As of yet, no dates for those seminars has been set.
The cold seems to be fading, slowly. Still have a lingering cough, but it is less frequent and less hostile than the past week or so. The chances of survival seem to be extremely high at the moment.
THE ANGRY WEAR MANY MASKS
the angry wear many masks, each of broken hearts & dreams as vague as miracles.
dying is no easy task. but the dead are boring & become accustomed to it.
the angry smile through clenched smiles. curse with laughter.
& saints be beautiful - even if invisible. they radiate as a comets across desert skies.
the angry stare with stone eyes. hearts of iron, warped & disenchanted. they are flowers never to bloom & are walked upon in irreverence.
the poetry and rambling thoughts of a working class poet
