This was inspired by Jim's poem, Metal. Number two in the Salon de Refuses.
I have my little piece of curb.
The bands have passed, their
Brass and drums. The songs
They played were nice enough,
But, now, the crash and clank
Of tools, hung from heavy
Leather belts, supply the
Sharp and honest music
Played each day as cities rise.
Always there, it goes unheard,
Except on Labor Day.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 19 times
Written on 2011-09-27 at 13:03
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Labor Day Parade
The iron workers have the street.I have my little piece of curb.
The bands have passed, their
Brass and drums. The songs
They played were nice enough,
But, now, the crash and clank
Of tools, hung from heavy
Leather belts, supply the
Sharp and honest music
Played each day as cities rise.
Always there, it goes unheard,
Except on Labor Day.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 19 times
Written on 2011-09-27 at 13:03
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text| Texts |
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