General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Passage Through Ennui

>> 35 years ago
>> it was another
>> long bitter Summer
>> that dark humid July 1985.

>> I was working
>> the graveyard shift
>> operating one of the service elevators
>> at Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>> Galatea and I
>> had split up again
>> earlier in the year
>> after our explosive reunion
>> in 1983.

>> It ended quickly
>> after a huge fight
>> with her brother
>> over an old score
>> usually forgotten.

>> I won the fight
>> but actually lost.
>> Tracy gave up
>> and Galatea left with him.

>> The year
>> it all came apart
>> seemingly permanent.
>> Two years of good times
>> ended in a moonshine rage. .

>> All I could see was
>> a shut down gloom.
>> The only laughter I heard
>> was down in the break room.

>> The brown haze of factory air
>> angry faced people
>> and the music
>> of metal machines.

>> Working all night
>> sleeping all day.
>> Sipping coffee
>> to chase the road aspirins.

>> Sitting on the steps
>> over by a giant fan.
>> keeping up with my workers
>> usually five ladies
>> at the machines.

>> If one of the ladies
>> needed anything
>> they'd just look my way
>> and wave.

>> Several times a night
>> I'd make a buy and fly
>> bringing back coffee for them
>> on makeshift cardboard trays.

>> Jotting down notes
>> doodling narratives
>> creating reality
>> building Shadowville
>> from the ground up.

>> Riding my elevator
>> up and down
>> creating samizdat
>> in the smoking booth.

>> Down to the Reel room
>> my elevator filled
>> with empty racks
>> to bring up the full ones
>> for the ladies upstairs.

>> All night
>> keeping it rolling
>> making it smooth
>> for the ladies
>> to make production.

>> Finally to clock out
>> as the sad whistle would blow
>> we would stumble out the gate
>> into the grey dawn.

>> Some headed for breakfast
>> and a beer
>> while always I headed home
>> for sleep
>> as quickly as possible.

>> Living at Mockingbird Court
>> where I had shared a trailer
>> with my friend Bob Whitman
>> an Army vet turned factory worker.

>> Bob worked downstairs
>> at the Autoclave
>> the machine that steamed chemicals
>> into the yarn.

>> Bob's sidekick Jim Berg
>> ran the huge Dryers
>> a super hot
>> chemical steam bath area.

>> Jim married
>> my childhood friend Pamela
>> and passed away too soon
>> from a heart attack

>> I'm not sure how workers
>> down there
>> survived the heat
>> and harsh smell.

>> Actually
>> I noticed not so well
>> as years went by
>> several old friends
>> still haunt me.

>> There was a guy named Bill
>> from Chicago
>> found in the Dryer room
>> coughing up blood from TB.

>> Chip, another Autoclave man
>> was found
>> giggling in the warehouse
>> up in the bales of fiber
>> one line of meth too many.

>> Little Rosell
>> on the Reels downstairs
>> hot little femme fatale
>> who I would know better later.

>> An unteresting lady
>> in her Daisy Duke shorts
>> and "Flashdance" shirt
>> she was the supervisors' choice.

>> Pipe smoking old Mr. Green
>> found in a hallway
>> died there of old age.

>> The list goes on
>> many who did not survive
>> until the shut down day
>> another poem for another day.

>> At that time of the night
>> with machines all running right
>> many of us could wander
>> have some coffee
>> and get some fresh air.

>> Bob was a good friend
>> at the job
>> quick with a joke
>> or pass his pipe for a toke.

>> Many smokers and drinkers
>> would hang out
>> on the porch
>> outside the Autoclave room.

>> When he heard
>> of my latest domestic disaster
>> Bob offered
>> to rent me a room.

>> In a rented room
>> in Bob's trailer
>> like a scene from The Odd Couple
>> without the laughs.

>> The bottom fell out
>> we didn't get along
>> outside of the job
>> so I moved out
>> to North Highland.

>> I moved in
>> next door to the Holt family
>> old school mill folk
>> in the former mill village.

>> Don, Walter and Karen Holden
>> all worked at
>> Shadowville Spinning Mill
>> like their family before them.

>> Karen worked in the supply room
>> Walter ran the Autoclave in Plant One
>> Don covered my job
>> during the say shift.

>> For some reason
>> it was important to them
>> that they tell Mr. Newberry
>> that I was their cousin.

>> I never did figure that out
>> but it was cool with me.
>> I liked them all
>> they were down to Earth folks.

>> The day I moved in
>> I had my music playing loud
>> outside my window
>> was the river
>> and then Alabama.

>> I would never have imagined
>> how that area would look now
>> with the row of houses demolished
>> and with the Riverwalk below.

>> I was two floors up
>> but I still felt
>> like a mole
>> like a subterranean.

>> Wake up
>> it was Monday
>> I could hear Billy Teakson
>> blowing his horn in his pickup truck
>> down below.

>> Billy was an old school
>> Card and Blending room man
>> never late
>> sick or well he was on the job.

>> Slither down the stairs
>> so far so good
>> jump in and ride on
>> the the alternate universe
>> the factory.

>> He never failed
>> to have a spare Budweiser
>> and a smoke
>> for the short ride to
>> Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>> We'd get there in time
>> to stand around the parking lot
>> and catch a few words
>> with the crew.

>> Then the whistle would blow
>> and it was on your mark
>> sail through 12 hours of dream
>> in another land.

>> Grabbed a cup of rotgut
>> mill coffee
>> and then
>> in a determined stroll.

>> Up to the Bobbin Winders
>> and the upstairs Reels
>> to catch everything up quick
>> get the game going right.

>> Then down the elevator
>> to the Spinning room
>> sweat shop
>> a dozen ladies
>> smoking and yelling conversations.

>> Loud roaring
>> antique seeming machinery
>> all all points
>> no escape from
>> the chaos and thunder.

>> Get it all caught up
>> then down to the sub basement
>> to pick up the prize left for me
>> by Don
>> my first shift doppelganger.

>> Any time Don
>> skipped out early
>> and left everything
>> off the mark, it was no problem.

>> He'd leave me a joint
>> at a certain spot
>> in the sub basement.

>> The basement was
>> creepy enough
>> but the sub basement
>> seemed right out
>> of a horror movie.

>> Needless to say
>> I'd keep my head down
>> and would try to get out
>> of the sub basement quickly.

>> I had been distributing
>> my broadsheets
>> among my co-worker friends
>> news of the day
>> with a twist.

>> They were entertained
>> by my poetry
>> and comic strips
>> looking for themselves
>> in the lines on paper.

>> Pat, the personnel director
>> called me in her office
>> and put the kibosh
>> on my broadsheet.

>> My poetry and art zine
>> had violated the strict
>> "No Distribution" policy
>> that no outside reading
>> was permitted inside the mill gates.

>> Since I had not been
>> aware of this policy
>> I apologized
>> and kept the broadsides
>> outside the gates from then on.

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:

>> General-Zod wrote:

>>> Will Dockery wrote:
>>>>
>>>> Passage Through Ennui

>>>> 35 years ago
>>>> it was another
>>>> long bitter Summer
>>>> that dark humid July 1985.

>>>> I was working
>>>> the graveyard shift
>>>> operating one of the service elevators
>>>> at Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>>>> Galatea and I
>>>> had split up again
>>>> earlier in the year
>>>> after our explosive reunion
>>>> in 1983.

>>>> It ended quickly
>>>> after a huge fight
>>>> with her brother
>>>> over an old score
>>>> usually forgotten.

>>>> I won the fight
>>>> but actually lost.
>>>> Tracy gave up
>>>> and Galatea left with him.

>>>> The year
>>>> it all came apart
>>>> seemingly permanent.
>>>> Two years of good times
>>>> ended in a moonshine rage. .

>>>> All I could see was
>>>> a shut down gloom.
>>>> The only laughter I heard
>>>> was down in the break room.

>>>> The brown haze of factory air
>>>> angry faced people
>>>> and the music
>>>> of metal machines.

>>>> Working all night
>>>> sleeping all day.
>>>> Sipping coffee
>>>> to chase the road aspirins.

>>>> Sitting on the steps
>>>> over by a giant fan.
>>>> keeping up with my workers
>>>> usually five ladies
>>>> at the machines.

>>>> If one of the ladies
>>>> needed anything
>>>> they'd just look my way
>>>> and wave.

>>>> Several times a night
>>>> I'd make a buy and fly
>>>> bringing back coffee for them
>>>> on makeshift cardboard trays.

>>>> Jotting down notes
>>>> doodling narratives
>>>> creating reality
>>>> building Shadowville
>>>> from the ground up.

>>>> Riding my elevator
>>>> up and down
>>>> creating samizdat
>>>> in the smoking booth.

>>>> Down to the Reel room
>>>> my elevator filled
>>>> with empty racks
>>>> to bring up the full ones
>>>> for the ladies upstairs.

>>>> All night
>>>> keeping it rolling
>>>> making it smooth
>>>> for the ladies
>>>> to make production.

>>>> Finally to clock out
>>>> as the sad whistle would blow
>>>> we would stumble out the gate
>>>> into the grey dawn.

>>>> Some headed for breakfast
>>>> and a beer
>>>> while always I headed home
>>>> for sleep
>>>> as quickly as possible.

>>>> Living at Mockingbird Court
>>>> where I had shared a trailer
>>>> with my friend Bob Whitman
>>>> an Army vet turned factory worker.

>>>> Bob worked downstairs
>>>> at the Autoclave
>>>> the machine that steamed chemicals
>>>> into the yarn.

>>>> Bob's sidekick Jim Berg
>>>> ran the huge Dryers
>>>> a super hot
>>>> chemical steam bath area.

>>>> Jim married
>>>> my childhood friend Pamela
>>>> and passed away too soon
>>>> from a heart attack

>>>> I'm not sure how workers
>>>> down there
>>>> survived the heat
>>>> and harsh smell.

>>>> Actually
>>>> I noticed not so well
>>>> as years went by
>>>> several old friends
>>>> still haunt me.

>>>> There was a guy named Bill
>>>> from Chicago
>>>> found in the Dryer room
>>>> coughing up blood from TB.

>>>> Chip, another Autoclave man
>>>> was found
>>>> giggling in the warehouse
>>>> up in the bales of fiber
>>>> one line of meth too many.

>>>> Little Rosell
>>>> on the Reels downstairs
>>>> hot little femme fatale
>>>> who I would know better later.

>>>> An unteresting lady
>>>> in her Daisy Duke shorts
>>>> and "Flashdance" shirt
>>>> she was the supervisors' choice.

>>>> Pipe smoking old Mr. Green
>>>> found in a hallway
>>>> died there of old age.

>>>> The list goes on
>>>> many who did not survive
>>>> until the shut down day
>>>> another poem for another day.

>>>> At that time of the night
>>>> with machines all running right
>>>> many of us could wander
>>>> have some coffee
>>>> and get some fresh air.

>>>> Bob was a good friend
>>>> at the job
>>>> quick with a joke
>>>> or pass his pipe for a toke.

>>>> Many smokers and drinkers
>>>> would hang out
>>>> on the porch
>>>> outside the Autoclave room.

>>>> When he heard
>>>> of my latest domestic disaster
>>>> Bob offered
>>>> to rent me a room.

>>>> In a rented room
>>>> in Bob's trailer
>>>> like a scene from The Odd Couple
>>>> without the laughs.

>>>> The bottom fell out
>>>> we didn't get along
>>>> outside of the job
>>>> so I moved out
>>>> to North Highland.

>>>> I moved in
>>>> next door to the Holt family
>>>> old school mill folk
>>>> in the former mill village.

>>>> Don, Walter and Karen Holden
>>>> all worked at
>>>> Shadowville Spinning Mill
>>>> like their family before them.

>>>> Karen worked in the supply room
>>>> Walter ran the Autoclave in Plant One
>>>> Don covered my job
>>>> during the say shift.

>>>> For some reason
>>>> it was important to them
>>>> that they tell Mr. Newberry
>>>> that I was their cousin.

>>>> I never did figure that out
>>>> but it was cool with me.
>>>> I liked them all
>>>> they were down to Earth folks.

>>>> The day I moved in
>>>> I had my music playing loud
>>>> outside my window
>>>> was the river
>>>> and then Alabama.

>>>> I would never have imagined
>>>> how that area would look now
>>>> with the row of houses demolished
>>>> and with the Riverwalk below.

>>>> I was two floors up
>>>> but I still felt
>>>> like a mole
>>>> like a subterranean.

>>>> Wake up
>>>> it was Monday
>>>> I could hear Billy Teakson
>>>> blowing his horn in his pickup truck
>>>> down below.

>>>> Billy was an old school
>>>> Card and Blending room man
>>>> never late
>>>> sick or well he was on the job.

>>>> Slither down the stairs
>>>> so far so good
>>>> jump in and ride on
>>>> the the alternate universe
>>>> the factory.

>>>> He never failed
>>>> to have a spare Budweiser
>>>> and a smoke
>>>> for the short ride to
>>>> Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>>>> We'd get there in time
>>>> to stand around the parking lot
>>>> and catch a few words
>>>> with the crew.

>>>> Then the whistle would blow
>>>> and it was on your mark
>>>> sail through 12 hours of dream
>>>> in another land.

>>>> Grabbed a cup of rotgut
>>>> mill coffee
>>>> and then
>>>> in a determined stroll.

>>>> Up to the Bobbin Winders
>>>> and the upstairs Reels
>>>> to catch everything up quick
>>>> get the game going right.

Family Guy wrote:

> On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 5:01:20 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
>> On Sunday, November 27, 2022 at 7:12:13 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
>> > Family Guy wrote:
>> >
>> > > On Friday, September 30, 2022 at 5:34:58 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
>> > >
>> > >> This poem is another based on true events.
>> From the Shadowville Mythos poetry blog:
>> https://shadowville-mythos.blogspot.com/2021/04/passage-through-ennui.html
>> > > You getting high?
>> > > That was shit.
>> > That's probably just your upper lip you smell, Dink.
>> >
>> > 🙂
>> Ha ha... from having his nose up Chad and Greg's ass..?
>>
>> Ha ha.

> Would you two Brokebum Mountain idiots just get a tent already and shut the hell up?

Gay lame much, Dink...?

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Passage Through Ennui

>> 35 years ago
>> it was another
>> long bitter Summer
>> that dark humid July 1985.

>> I was working
>> the graveyard shift
>> operating one of the service elevators
>> at Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>> Galatea and I
>> had split up again
>> earlier in the year
>> after our explosive reunion
>> in 1983.

>> It ended quickly
>> after a huge fight
>> with her brother
>> over an old score
>> usually forgotten.

>> I won the fight
>> but actually lost.
>> Tracy gave up
>> and Galatea left with him.

>> The year
>> it all came apart
>> seemingly permanent.
>> Two years of good times
>> ended in a moonshine rage. .

>> All I could see was
>> a shut down gloom.
>> The only laughter I heard
>> was down in the break room.

>> The brown haze of factory air
>> angry faced people
>> and the music
>> of metal machines.

>> Working all night
>> sleeping all day.
>> Sipping coffee
>> to chase the road aspirins.

>> Sitting on the steps
>> over by a giant fan.
>> keeping up with my workers
>> usually five ladies
>> at the machines.

>> If one of the ladies
>> needed anything
>> they'd just look my way
>> and wave.

>> Several times a night
>> I'd make a buy and fly
>> bringing back coffee for them
>> on makeshift cardboard trays.

>> Jotting down notes
>> doodling narratives
>> creating reality
>> building Shadowville
>> from the ground up.

>> Riding my elevator
>> up and down
>> creating samizdat
>> in the smoking booth.

>> Down to the Reel room
>> my elevator filled
>> with empty racks
>> to bring up the full ones
>> for the ladies upstairs.

>> All night
>> keeping it rolling
>> making it smooth
>> for the ladies
>> to make production.

>> Finally to clock out
>> as the sad whistle would blow
>> we would stumble out the gate
>> into the grey dawn.

>> Some headed for breakfast
>> and a beer
>> while always I headed home
>> for sleep
>> as quickly as possible.

>> Living at Mockingbird Court
>> where I had shared a trailer
>> with my friend Bob Whitman
>> an Army vet turned factory worker.

>> Bob worked downstairs
>> at the Autoclave
>> the machine that steamed chemicals
>> into the yarn.

>> Bob's sidekick Jim Berg
>> ran the huge Dryers
>> a super hot
>> chemical steam bath area.

>> Jim married
>> my childhood friend Pamela
>> and passed away too soon
>> from a heart attack

>> I'm not sure how workers
>> down there
>> survived the heat
>> and harsh smell.

>> Actually
>> I noticed not so well
>> as years went by
>> several old friends
>> still haunt me.

>> There was a guy named Bill
>> from Chicago
>> found in the Dryer room
>> coughing up blood from TB.

>> Chip, another Autoclave man
>> was found
>> giggling in the warehouse
>> up in the bales of fiber
>> one line of meth too many.

>> Little Rosell
>> on the Reels downstairs
>> hot little femme fatale
>> who I would know better later.

>> An unteresting lady
>> in her Daisy Duke shorts
>> and "Flashdance" shirt
>> she was the supervisors' choice.

>> Pipe smoking old Mr. Green
>> found in a hallway
>> died there of old age.

>> The list goes on
>> many who did not survive
>> until the shut down day
>> another poem for another day.

>> At that time of the night
>> with machines all running right
>> many of us could wander
>> have some coffee
>> and get some fresh air.

>> Bob was a good friend
>> at the job
>> quick with a joke
>> or pass his pipe for a toke.

>> Many smokers and drinkers
>> would hang out
>> on the porch
>> outside the Autoclave room.

>> When he heard
>> of my latest domestic disaster
>> Bob offered
>> to rent me a room.

>> In a rented room
>> in Bob's trailer
>> like a scene from The Odd Couple
>> without the laughs.

>> The bottom fell out
>> we didn't get along
>> outside of the job
>> so I moved out
>> to North Highland.

>> I moved in
>> next door to the Holt family
>> old school mill folk
>> in the former mill village.

>> Don, Walter and Karen Holden
>> all worked at
>> Shadowville Spinning Mill
>> like their family before them.

>> Karen worked in the supply room
>> Walter ran the Autoclave in Plant One
>> Don covered my job
>> during the say shift.

>> For some reason
>> it was important to them
>> that they tell Mr. Newberry
>> that I was their cousin.

>> I never did figure that out
>> but it was cool with me.
>> I liked them all
>> they were down to Earth folks.

>> The day I moved in
>> I had my music playing loud
>> outside my window
>> was the river
>> and then Alabama.

>> I would never have imagined
>> how that area would look now
>> with the row of houses demolished
>> and with the Riverwalk below.

>> I was two floors up
>> but I still felt
>> like a mole
>> like a subterranean.

>> Wake up
>> it was Monday
>> I could hear Billy Teakson
>> blowing his horn in his pickup truck
>> down below.

>> Billy was an old school
>> Card and Blending room man
>> never late
>> sick or well he was on the job.

>> Slither down the stairs
>> so far so good
>> jump in and ride on
>> the the alternate universe
>> the factory.

>> He never failed
>> to have a spare Budweiser
>> and a smoke
>> for the short ride to
>> Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>> We'd get there in time
>> to stand around the parking lot
>> and catch a few words
>> with the crew.

>> Then the whistle would blow
>> and it was on your mark
>> sail through 12 hours of dream
>> in another land.

>> Grabbed a cup of rotgut
>> mill coffee
>> and then
>> in a determined stroll.

>> Up to the Bobbin Winders
>> and the upstairs Reels
>> to catch everything up quick
>> get the game going right.

>> Then down the elevator
>> to the Spinning room
>> sweat shop
>> a dozen ladies
>> smoking and yelling conversations.

>> Loud roaring
>> antique seeming machinery
>> all all points
>> no escape from
>> the chaos and thunder.

>> Get it all caught up
>> then down to the sub basement
>> to pick up the prize left for me
>> by Don
>> my first shift doppelganger.

>> Any time Don
>> skipped out early
>> and left everything
>> off the mark, it was no problem.

>> He'd leave me a joint
>> at a certain spot
>> in the sub basement.

>> The basement was
>> creepy enough
>> but the sub basement
>> seemed right out
>> of a horror movie.

>> Needless to say
>> I'd keep my head down
>> and would try to get out
>> of the sub basement quickly.

>> I had been distributing
>> my broadsheets
>> among my co-worker friends
>> news of the day
>> with a twist.

>> They were entertained
>> by my poetry
>> and comic strips
>> looking for themselves
>> in the lines on paper.

>> Pat, the personnel director
>> called me in her office
>> and put the kibosh
>> on my broadsheet.

>> My poetry and art zine
>> had violated the strict
>> "No Distribution" policy
>> that no outside reading
>> was permitted inside the mill gates.

>> Since I had not been
>> aware of this policy
>> I apologized
>> and kept the broadsides
>> outside the gates from then on.

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:

>> General-Zod wrote:

>>> Will Dockery wrote:
>>>>
>>>> Passage Through Ennui

>>>> 35 years ago
>>>> it was another
>>>> long bitter Summer
>>>> that dark humid July 1985.

>>>> I was working
>>>> the graveyard shift
>>>> operating one of the service elevators
>>>> at Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>>>> Galatea and I
>>>> had split up again
>>>> earlier in the year
>>>> after our explosive reunion
>>>> in 1983.

>>>> It ended quickly
>>>> after a huge fight
>>>> with her brother
>>>> over an old score
>>>> usually forgotten.

>>>> I won the fight
>>>> but actually lost.
>>>> Tracy gave up
>>>> and Galatea left with him.

>>>> The year
>>>> it all came apart
>>>> seemingly permanent.
>>>> Two years of good times
>>>> ended in a moonshine rage. .

>>>> All I could see was
>>>> a shut down gloom.
>>>> The only laughter I heard
>>>> was down in the break room.

>>>> The brown haze of factory air
>>>> angry faced people
>>>> and the music
>>>> of metal machines.

>>>> Working all night
>>>> sleeping all day.
>>>> Sipping coffee
>>>> to chase the road aspirins.

>>>> Sitting on the steps
>>>> over by a giant fan.
>>>> keeping up with my workers
>>>> usually five ladies
>>>> at the machines.

>>>> If one of the ladies
>>>> needed anything
>>>> they'd just look my way
>>>> and wave.

>>>> Several times a night
>>>> I'd make a buy and fly
>>>> bringing back coffee for them
>>>> on makeshift cardboard trays.

>>>> Jotting down notes
>>>> doodling narratives
>>>> creating reality
>>>> building Shadowville
>>>> from the ground up.

>>>> Riding my elevator
>>>> up and down
>>>> creating samizdat
>>>> in the smoking booth.

>>>> Down to the Reel room
>>>> my elevator filled
>>>> with empty racks
>>>> to bring up the full ones
>>>> for the ladies upstairs.

>>>> All night
>>>> keeping it rolling
>>>> making it smooth
>>>> for the ladies
>>>> to make production.

>>>> Finally to clock out
>>>> as the sad whistle would blow
>>>> we would stumble out the gate
>>>> into the grey dawn.

>>>> Some headed for breakfast
>>>> and a beer
>>>> while always I headed home
>>>> for sleep
>>>> as quickly as possible.

>>>> Living at Mockingbird Court
>>>> where I had shared a trailer
>>>> with my friend Bob Whitman
>>>> an Army vet turned factory worker.

>>>> Bob worked downstairs
>>>> at the Autoclave
>>>> the machine that steamed chemicals
>>>> into the yarn.

>>>> Bob's sidekick Jim Berg
>>>> ran the huge Dryers
>>>> a super hot
>>>> chemical steam bath area.

>>>> Jim married
>>>> my childhood friend Pamela
>>>> and passed away too soon
>>>> from a heart attack

>>>> I'm not sure how workers
>>>> down there
>>>> survived the heat
>>>> and harsh smell.

>>>> Actually
>>>> I noticed not so well
>>>> as years went by
>>>> several old friends
>>>> still haunt me.

>>>> There was a guy named Bill
>>>> from Chicago
>>>> found in the Dryer room
>>>> coughing up blood from TB.

>>>> Chip, another Autoclave man
>>>> was found
>>>> giggling in the warehouse
>>>> up in the bales of fiber
>>>> one line of meth too many.

>>>> Little Rosell
>>>> on the Reels downstairs
>>>> hot little femme fatale
>>>> who I would know better later.

>>>> An unteresting lady
>>>> in her Daisy Duke shorts
>>>> and "Flashdance" shirt
>>>> she was the supervisors' choice.

>>>> Pipe smoking old Mr. Green
>>>> found in a hallway
>>>> died there of old age.

>>>> The list goes on
>>>> many who did not survive
>>>> until the shut down day
>>>> another poem for another day.

>>>> At that time of the night
>>>> with machines all running right
>>>> many of us could wander
>>>> have some coffee
>>>> and get some fresh air.

>>>> Bob was a good friend
>>>> at the job
>>>> quick with a joke
>>>> or pass his pipe for a toke.

>>>> Many smokers and drinkers
>>>> would hang out
>>>> on the porch
>>>> outside the Autoclave room.

>>>> When he heard
>>>> of my latest domestic disaster
>>>> Bob offered
>>>> to rent me a room.

>>>> In a rented room
>>>> in Bob's trailer
>>>> like a scene from The Odd Couple
>>>> without the laughs.

>>>> The bottom fell out
>>>> we didn't get along
>>>> outside of the job
>>>> so I moved out
>>>> to North Highland.

>>>> I moved in
>>>> next door to the Holt family
>>>> old school mill folk
>>>> in the former mill village.

>>>> Don, Walter and Karen Holden
>>>> all worked at
>>>> Shadowville Spinning Mill
>>>> like their family before them.

>>>> Karen worked in the supply room
>>>> Walter ran the Autoclave in Plant One
>>>> Don covered my job
>>>> during the say shift.

>>>> For some reason
>>>> it was important to them
>>>> that they tell Mr. Newberry
>>>> that I was their cousin.

>>>> I never did figure that out
>>>> but it was cool with me.
>>>> I liked them all
>>>> they were down to Earth folks.

>>>> The day I moved in
>>>> I had my music playing loud
>>>> outside my window
>>>> was the river
>>>> and then Alabama.

>>>> I would never have imagined
>>>> how that area would look now
>>>> with the row of houses demolished
>>>> and with the Riverwalk below.

>>>> I was two floors up
>>>> but I still felt
>>>> like a mole
>>>> like a subterranean.

>>>> Wake up
>>>> it was Monday
>>>> I could hear Billy Teakson
>>>> blowing his horn in his pickup truck
>>>> down below.

>>>> Billy was an old school
>>>> Card and Blending room man
>>>> never late
>>>> sick or well he was on the job.

>>>> Slither down the stairs
>>>> so far so good
>>>> jump in and ride on
>>>> the the alternate universe
>>>> the factory.

>>>> He never failed
>>>> to have a spare Budweiser
>>>> and a smoke
>>>> for the short ride to
>>>> Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>>>> We'd get there in time
>>>> to stand around the parking lot
>>>> and catch a few words
>>>> with the crew.

>>>> Then the whistle would blow
>>>> and it was on your mark
>>>> sail through 12 hours of dream
>>>> in another land.

>>>> Grabbed a cup of rotgut
>>>> mill coffee
>>>> and then
>>>> in a determined stroll.

>>>> Up to the Bobbin Winders
>>>> and the upstairs Reels
>>>> to catch everything up quick
>>>> get the game going right.

Will Dockery wrote:
>
> Passage Through Ennui

> 35 years ago
> it was another
> long bitter Summer
> that dark humid July 1985.

> I was working
> the graveyard shift
> operating one of the service elevators
> at Shadowville Spinning Mill.

> Galatea and I
> had split up again
> earlier in the year
> after our explosive reunion
> in 1983.

> It ended quickly
> after a huge fight
> with her brother
> over an old score
> usually forgotten.

> I won the fight
> but actually lost.
> Tracy gave up
> and Galatea left with him.

> The year
> it all came apart
> seemingly permanent.
> Two years of good times
> ended in a moonshine rage. .

> All I could see was
> a shut down gloom.
> The only laughter I heard
> was down in the break room.

> The brown haze of factory air
> angry faced people
> and the music
> of metal machines.

> Working all night
> sleeping all day.
> Sipping coffee
> to chase the road aspirins.

> Sitting on the steps
> over by a giant fan.
> keeping up with my workers
> usually five ladies
> at the machines.

> If one of the ladies
> needed anything
> they'd just look my way
> and wave.

> Several times a night
> I'd make a buy and fly
> bringing back coffee for them
> on makeshift cardboard trays.

> Jotting down notes
> doodling narratives
> creating reality
> building Shadowville
> from the ground up.

> Riding my elevator
> up and down
> creating samizdat
> in the smoking booth.

> Down to the Reel room
> my elevator filled
> with empty racks
> to bring up the full ones
> for the ladies upstairs.

> All night
> keeping it rolling
> making it smooth
> for the ladies
> to make production.

> Finally to clock out
> as the sad whistle would blow
> we would stumble out the gate
> into the grey dawn.

> Some headed for breakfast
> and a beer
> while always I headed home
> for sleep
> as quickly as possible.

> Living at Mockingbird Court
> where I had shared a trailer
> with my friend Bob Whitman
> an Army vet turned factory worker.

> Bob worked downstairs
> at the Autoclave
> the machine that steamed chemicals
> into the yarn.

> Bob's sidekick Jim Berg
> ran the huge Dryers
> a super hot
> chemical steam bath area.

> Jim married
> my childhood friend Pamela
> and passed away too soon
> from a heart attack

> I'm not sure how workers
> down there
> survived the heat
> and harsh smell.

> Actually
> I noticed not so well
> as years went by
> several old friends
> still haunt me.

> There was a guy named Bill
> from Chicago
> found in the Dryer room
> coughing up blood from TB.

> Chip, another Autoclave man
> was found
> giggling in the warehouse
> up in the bales of fiber
> one line of meth too many.

> Little Rosell
> on the Reels downstairs
> hot little femme fatale
> who I would know better later.

> An unteresting lady
> in her Daisy Duke shorts
> and "Flashdance" shirt
> she was the supervisors' choice.

> Pipe smoking old Mr. Green
> found in a hallway
> died there of old age.

> The list goes on
> many who did not survive
> until the shut down day
> another poem for another day.

> At that time of the night
> with machines all running right
> many of us could wander
> have some coffee
> and get some fresh air.

> Bob was a good friend
> at the job
> quick with a joke
> or pass his pipe for a toke.

> Many smokers and drinkers
> would hang out
> on the porch
> outside the Autoclave room.

> When he heard
> of my latest domestic disaster
> Bob offered
> to rent me a room.

> In a rented room
> in Bob's trailer
> like a scene from The Odd Couple
> without the laughs.

> The bottom fell out
> we didn't get along
> outside of the job
> so I moved out
> to North Highland.

> I moved in
> next door to the Holt family
> old school mill folk
> in the former mill village.

> Don, Walter and Karen Holden
> all worked at
> Shadowville Spinning Mill
> like their family before them.

> Karen worked in the supply room
> Walter ran the Autoclave in Plant One
> Don covered my job
> during the say shift.

> For some reason
> it was important to them
> that they tell Mr. Newberry
> that I was their cousin.

> I never did figure that out
> but it was cool with me.
> I liked them all
> they were down to Earth folks.

> The day I moved in
> I had my music playing loud
> outside my window
> was the river
> and then Alabama.

> I would never have imagined
> how that area would look now
> with the row of houses demolished
> and with the Riverwalk below.

> I was two floors up
> but I still felt
> like a mole
> like a subterranean.

> Wake up
> it was Monday
> I could hear Billy Teakson
> blowing his horn in his pickup truck
> down below.

> Billy was an old school
> Card and Blending room man
> never late
> sick or well he was on the job.

> Slither down the stairs
> so far so good
> jump in and ride on
> the the alternate universe
> the factory.

> He never failed
> to have a spare Budweiser
> and a smoke
> for the short ride to
> Shadowville Spinning Mill.

> We'd get there in time
> to stand around the parking lot
> and catch a few words
> with the crew.

> Then the whistle would blow
> and it was on your mark
> sail through 12 hours of dream
> in another land.

> Grabbed a cup of rotgut
> mill coffee
> and then
> in a determined stroll.

> Up to the Bobbin Winders
> and the upstairs Reels
> to catch everything up quick
> get the game going right.

> Then down the elevator
> to the Spinning room
> sweat shop
> a dozen ladies
> smoking and yelling conversations.

> Loud roaring
> antique seeming machinery
> all all points
> no escape from
> the chaos and thunder.

> Get it all caught up
> then down to the sub basement
> to pick up the prize left for me
> by Don
> my first shift doppelganger.

> Any time Don
> skipped out early
> and left everything
> off the mark, it was no problem.

> He'd leave me a joint
> at a certain spot
> in the sub basement.

> The basement was
> creepy enough
> but the sub basement
> seemed right out
> of a horror movie.

> Needless to say
> I'd keep my head down
> and would try to get out
> of the sub basement quickly.

> I had been distributing
> my broadsheets
> among my co-worker friends
> news of the day
> with a twist.

> They were entertained
> by my poetry
> and comic strips
> looking for themselves
> in the lines on paper.

> Pat, the personnel director
> called me in her office
> and put the kibosh
> on my broadsheet.

> My poetry and art zine
> had violated the strict
> "No Distribution" policy
> that no outside reading
> was permitted inside the mill gates.

> Since I had not been
> aware of this policy
> I apologized
> and kept the broadsides
> outside the gates from then on.

> Absolutely
> no foreknowledge
> of what was coming next
> taking one minute at a time.

> Getting from one minute
> to the next
> always in a hurry
> caught up in the time
> flashing by.

> Not even giving a damn
> or so I told myself
> by that point in time
> hoping for a speedy turnabout.

> I never could have foreseen
> twenty years later in 2005
> standing in a crowd
> watching the old mill in flames

> I was living
> in the worn out townhouse
> at 3226 River Avenue
> once part of a mill village.

> First week of the month
> was always annoying
> so much noise
> as I tried to sleep.

> All day hearing Mr. Newberry
> beating on the sides
> of the houses with his cane
> trying to collect his rent money.

> Alone
> in my upstairs office
> writing my manifesto
> in poetry and comic strips.

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Passage Through Ennui

>> 35 years ago
>> it was another
>> long bitter Summer
>> that dark humid July 1985.

>> I was working
>> the graveyard shift
>> operating one of the service elevators
>> at Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>> Galatea and I
>> had split up again
>> earlier in the year
>> after our explosive reunion
>> in 1983.

>> It ended quickly
>> after a huge fight
>> with her brother
>> over an old score
>> usually forgotten.

>> I won the fight
>> but actually lost.
>> Tracy gave up
>> and Galatea left with him.

>> The year
>> it all came apart
>> seemingly permanent.
>> Two years of good times
>> ended in a moonshine rage. .

>> All I could see was
>> a shut down gloom.
>> The only laughter I heard
>> was down in the break room.

>> The brown haze of factory air
>> angry faced people
>> and the music
>> of metal machines.

>> Working all night
>> sleeping all day.
>> Sipping coffee
>> to chase the road aspirins.

>> Sitting on the steps
>> over by a giant fan.
>> keeping up with my workers
>> usually five ladies
>> at the machines.

>> If one of the ladies
>> needed anything
>> they'd just look my way
>> and wave.

>> Several times a night
>> I'd make a buy and fly
>> bringing back coffee for them
>> on makeshift cardboard trays.

>> Jotting down notes
>> doodling narratives
>> creating reality
>> building Shadowville
>> from the ground up.

>> Riding my elevator
>> up and down
>> creating samizdat
>> in the smoking booth.

>> Down to the Reel room
>> my elevator filled
>> with empty racks
>> to bring up the full ones
>> for the ladies upstairs.

>> All night
>> keeping it rolling
>> making it smooth
>> for the ladies
>> to make production.

>> Finally to clock out
>> as the sad whistle would blow
>> we would stumble out the gate
>> into the grey dawn.

>> Some headed for breakfast
>> and a beer
>> while always I headed home
>> for sleep
>> as quickly as possible.

>> Living at Mockingbird Court
>> where I had shared a trailer
>> with my friend Bob Whitman
>> an Army vet turned factory worker.

>> Bob worked downstairs
>> at the Autoclave
>> the machine that steamed chemicals
>> into the yarn.

>> Bob's sidekick Jim Berg
>> ran the huge Dryers
>> a super hot
>> chemical steam bath area.

>> Jim married
>> my childhood friend Pamela
>> and passed away too soon
>> from a heart attack

>> I'm not sure how workers
>> down there
>> survived the heat
>> and harsh smell.

>> Actually
>> I noticed not so well
>> as years went by
>> several old friends
>> still haunt me.

>> There was a guy named Bill
>> from Chicago
>> found in the Dryer room
>> coughing up blood from TB.

>> Chip, another Autoclave man
>> was found
>> giggling in the warehouse
>> up in the bales of fiber
>> one line of meth too many.

>> Little Rosell
>> on the Reels downstairs
>> hot little femme fatale
>> who I would know better later.

>> An unteresting lady
>> in her Daisy Duke shorts
>> and "Flashdance" shirt
>> she was the supervisors' choice.

>> Pipe smoking old Mr. Green
>> found in a hallway
>> died there of old age.

>> The list goes on
>> many who did not survive
>> until the shut down day
>> another poem for another day.

>> At that time of the night
>> with machines all running right
>> many of us could wander
>> have some coffee
>> and get some fresh air.

>> Bob was a good friend
>> at the job
>> quick with a joke
>> or pass his pipe for a toke.

>> Many smokers and drinkers
>> would hang out
>> on the porch
>> outside the Autoclave room.

>> When he heard
>> of my latest domestic disaster
>> Bob offered
>> to rent me a room.

>> In a rented room
>> in Bob's trailer
>> like a scene from The Odd Couple
>> without the laughs.

>> The bottom fell out
>> we didn't get along
>> outside of the job
>> so I moved out
>> to North Highland.

>> I moved in
>> next door to the Holt family
>> old school mill folk
>> in the former mill village.

>> Don, Walter and Karen Holden
>> all worked at
>> Shadowville Spinning Mill
>> like their family before them.

>> Karen worked in the supply room
>> Walter ran the Autoclave in Plant One
>> Don covered my job
>> during the say shift.

>> For some reason
>> it was important to them
>> that they tell Mr. Newberry
>> that I was their cousin.

>> I never did figure that out
>> but it was cool with me.
>> I liked them all
>> they were down to Earth folks.

>> The day I moved in
>> I had my music playing loud
>> outside my window
>> was the river
>> and then Alabama.

>> I would never have imagined
>> how that area would look now
>> with the row of houses demolished
>> and with the Riverwalk below.

>> I was two floors up
>> but I still felt
>> like a mole
>> like a subterranean.

>> Wake up
>> it was Monday
>> I could hear Billy Teakson
>> blowing his horn in his pickup truck
>> down below.

>> Billy was an old school
>> Card and Blending room man
>> never late
>> sick or well he was on the job.

>> Slither down the stairs
>> so far so good
>> jump in and ride on
>> the the alternate universe
>> the factory.

>> He never failed
>> to have a spare Budweiser
>> and a smoke
>> for the short ride to
>> Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>> We'd get there in time
>> to stand around the parking lot
>> and catch a few words
>> with the crew.

>> Then the whistle would blow
>> and it was on your mark
>> sail through 12 hours of dream
>> in another land.

>> Grabbed a cup of rotgut
>> mill coffee
>> and then
>> in a determined stroll.

>> Up to the Bobbin Winders
>> and the upstairs Reels
>> to catch everything up quick
>> get the game going right.

>> Then down the elevator
>> to the Spinning room
>> sweat shop
>> a dozen ladies
>> smoking and yelling conversations.

>> Loud roaring
>> antique seeming machinery
>> all all points
>> no escape from
>> the chaos and thunder.

>> Get it all caught up
>> then down to the sub basement
>> to pick up the prize left for me
>> by Don
>> my first shift doppelganger.

>> Any time Don
>> skipped out early
>> and left everything
>> off the mark, it was no problem.

>> He'd leave me a joint
>> at a certain spot
>> in the sub basement.

>> The basement was
>> creepy enough
>> but the sub basement
>> seemed right out
>> of a horror movie.

>> Needless to say
>> I'd keep my head down
>> and would try to get out
>> of the sub basement quickly.

>> I had been distributing
>> my broadsheets
>> among my co-worker friends
>> news of the day
>> with a twist.

>> They were entertained
>> by my poetry
>> and comic strips
>> looking for themselves
>> in the lines on paper.

>> Pat, the personnel director
>> called me in her office
>> and put the kibosh
>> on my broadsheet.

>> My poetry and art zine
>> had violated the strict
>> "No Distribution" policy
>> that no outside reading
>> was permitted inside the mill gates.

>> Since I had not been
>> aware of this policy
>> I apologized
>> and kept the broadsides
>> outside the gates from then on.

Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:

>> General-Zod wrote:

>>> Will Dockery wrote:
>>>> General-Zod wrote:

>>>>> Will Dockery wrote:
>>>>
>>>>>>>> Passage Through Ennui

>>>>>>>> 35 years ago
>>>>>>>> it was another
>>>>>>>> long bitter Summer
>>>>>>>> that dark humid July 1985.

>>>>>>>> I was working
>>>>>>>> the graveyard shift
>>>>>>>> operating one of the service elevators
>>>>>>>> at Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>>>>>>>> Galatea and I
>>>>>>>> had split up again
>>>>>>>> earlier in the year
>>>>>>>> after our explosive reunion
>>>>>>>> in 1983.

>>>>>>>> It ended quickly
>>>>>>>> after a huge fight
>>>>>>>> with her brother
>>>>>>>> over an old score
>>>>>>>> usually forgotten.

>>>>>>>> I won the fight
>>>>>>>> but actually lost.
>>>>>>>> Tracy gave up
>>>>>>>> and Galatea left with him.

>>>>>>>> The year
>>>>>>>> it all came apart
>>>>>>>> seemingly permanent.
>>>>>>>> Two years of good times
>>>>>>>> ended in a moonshine rage. .

>>>>>>>> All I could see was
>>>>>>>> a shut down gloom.
>>>>>>>> The only laughter I heard
>>>>>>>> was down in the break room.

>>>>>>>> The brown haze of factory air
>>>>>>>> angry faced people
>>>>>>>> and the music
>>>>>>>> of metal machines.

>>>>>>>> Working all night
>>>>>>>> sleeping all day.
>>>>>>>> Sipping coffee
>>>>>>>> to chase the road aspirins.

>>>>>>>> Sitting on the steps
>>>>>>>> over by a giant fan.
>>>>>>>> keeping up with my workers
>>>>>>>> usually five ladies
>>>>>>>> at the machines.

>>>>>>>> If one of the ladies
>>>>>>>> needed anything
>>>>>>>> they'd just look my way
>>>>>>>> and wave.

>>>>>>>> Several times a night
>>>>>>>> I'd make a buy and fly
>>>>>>>> bringing back coffee for them
>>>>>>>> on makeshift cardboard trays.

>>>>>>>> Jotting down notes
>>>>>>>> doodling narratives
>>>>>>>> creating reality
>>>>>>>> building Shadowville
>>>>>>>> from the ground up.

>>>>>>>> Riding my elevator
>>>>>>>> up and down
>>>>>>>> creating samizdat
>>>>>>>> in the smoking booth.

>>>>>>>> Down to the Reel room
>>>>>>>> my elevator filled
>>>>>>>> with empty racks
>>>>>>>> to bring up the full ones
>>>>>>>> for the ladies upstairs.

>>>>>>>> All night
>>>>>>>> keeping it rolling
>>>>>>>> making it smooth
>>>>>>>> for the ladies
>>>>>>>> to make production.

>>>>>>>> Finally to clock out
>>>>>>>> as the sad whistle would blow
>>>>>>>> we would stumble out the gate
>>>>>>>> into the grey dawn.

>>>>>>>> Some headed for breakfast
>>>>>>>> and a beer
>>>>>>>> while always I headed home
>>>>>>>> for sleep
>>>>>>>> as quickly as possible.

>>>>>>>> Living at Mockingbird Court
>>>>>>>> where I had shared a trailer
>>>>>>>> with my friend Bob Whitman
>>>>>>>> an Army vet turned factory worker.

>>>>>>>> Bob worked downstairs
>>>>>>>> at the Autoclave
>>>>>>>> the machine that steamed chemicals
>>>>>>>> into the yarn.

>>>>>>>> Bob's sidekick Jim Berg
>>>>>>>> ran the huge Dryers
>>>>>>>> a super hot
>>>>>>>> chemical steam bath area.

>>>>>>>> Jim married
>>>>>>>> my childhood friend Pamela
>>>>>>>> and passed away too soon
>>>>>>>> from a heart attack

>>>>>>>> I'm not sure how workers
>>>>>>>> down there
>>>>>>>> survived the heat
>>>>>>>> and harsh smell.

>>>>>>>> Actually
>>>>>>>> I noticed not so well
>>>>>>>> as years went by
>>>>>>>> several old friends
>>>>>>>> still haunt me.

>>>>>>>> There was a guy named Bill
>>>>>>>> from Chicago
>>>>>>>> found in the Dryer room
>>>>>>>> coughing up blood from TB.

>>>>>>>> Chip, another Autoclave man
>>>>>>>> was found
>>>>>>>> giggling in the warehouse
>>>>>>>> up in the bales of fiber
>>>>>>>> one line of meth too many.

>>>>>>>> Little Rosell
>>>>>>>> on the Reels downstairs
>>>>>>>> hot little femme fatale
>>>>>>>> who I would know better later.

>>>>>>>> An unteresting lady
>>>>>>>> in her Daisy Duke shorts
>>>>>>>> and "Flashdance" shirt
>>>>>>>> she was the supervisors' choice.

>>>>>>>> Pipe smoking old Mr. Green
>>>>>>>> found in a hallway
>>>>>>>> died there of old age.

>>>>>>>> The list goes on
>>>>>>>> many who did not survive
>>>>>>>> until the shut down day
>>>>>>>> another poem for another day.

>>>>>>>> At that time of the night
>>>>>>>> with machines all running right
>>>>>>>> many of us could wander
>>>>>>>> have some coffee
>>>>>>>> and get some fresh air.

>>>>>>>> Bob was a good friend
>>>>>>>> at the job
>>>>>>>> quick with a joke
>>>>>>>> or pass his pipe for a toke.

>>>>>>>> Many smokers and drinkers
>>>>>>>> would hang out
>>>>>>>> on the porch
>>>>>>>> outside the Autoclave room.

>>>>>>>> When he heard
>>>>>>>> of my latest domestic disaster
>>>>>>>> Bob offered
>>>>>>>> to rent me a room.

>>>>>>>> In a rented room
>>>>>>>> in Bob's trailer
>>>>>>>> like a scene from The Odd Couple
>>>>>>>> without the laughs.

>>>>>>>> The bottom fell out
>>>>>>>> we didn't get along
>>>>>>>> outside of the job
>>>>>>>> so I moved out
>>>>>>>> to North Highland.

>>>>>>>> I moved in
>>>>>>>> next door to the Holt family
>>>>>>>> old school mill folk
>>>>>>>> in the former mill village.

>>>>>>>> Don, Walter and Karen Holden
>>>>>>>> all worked at
>>>>>>>> Shadowville Spinning Mill
>>>>>>>> like their family before them.

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Passage Through Ennui

>> 35 years ago
>> it was another
>> long bitter Summer
>> that dark humid July 1985.

>> I was working
>> the graveyard shift
>> operating one of the service elevators
>> at Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>> Galatea and I
>> had split up again
>> earlier in the year
>> after our explosive reunion
>> in 1983.

>> It ended quickly
>> after a huge fight
>> with her brother
>> over an old score
>> usually forgotten.

>> I won the fight
>> but actually lost.
>> Tracy gave up
>> and Galatea left with him.

>> The year
>> it all came apart
>> seemingly permanent.
>> Two years of good times
>> ended in a moonshine rage. .

>> All I could see was
>> a shut down gloom.
>> The only laughter I heard
>> was down in the break room.

>> The brown haze of factory air
>> angry faced people
>> and the music
>> of metal machines.

>> Working all night
>> sleeping all day.
>> Sipping coffee
>> to chase the road aspirins.

>> Sitting on the steps
>> over by a giant fan.
>> keeping up with my workers
>> usually five ladies
>> at the machines.

>> If one of the ladies
>> needed anything
>> they'd just look my way
>> and wave.

>> Several times a night
>> I'd make a buy and fly
>> bringing back coffee for them
>> on makeshift cardboard trays.

>> Jotting down notes
>> doodling narratives
>> creating reality
>> building Shadowville
>> from the ground up.

>> Riding my elevator
>> up and down
>> creating samizdat
>> in the smoking booth.

>> Down to the Reel room
>> my elevator filled
>> with empty racks
>> to bring up the full ones
>> for the ladies upstairs.

>> All night
>> keeping it rolling
>> making it smooth
>> for the ladies
>> to make production.

>> Finally to clock out
>> as the sad whistle would blow
>> we would stumble out the gate
>> into the grey dawn.

>> Some headed for breakfast
>> and a beer
>> while always I headed home
>> for sleep
>> as quickly as possible.

>> Living at Mockingbird Court
>> where I had shared a trailer
>> with my friend Bob Whitman
>> an Army vet turned factory worker.

>> Bob worked downstairs
>> at the Autoclave
>> the machine that steamed chemicals
>> into the yarn.

>> Bob's sidekick Jim Berg
>> ran the huge Dryers
>> a super hot
>> chemical steam bath area.

>> Jim married
>> my childhood friend Pamela
>> and passed away too soon
>> from a heart attack

>> I'm not sure how workers
>> down there
>> survived the heat
>> and harsh smell.

>> Actually
>> I noticed not so well
>> as years went by
>> several old friends
>> still haunt me.

>> There was a guy named Bill
>> from Chicago
>> found in the Dryer room
>> coughing up blood from TB.

>> Chip, another Autoclave man
>> was found
>> giggling in the warehouse
>> up in the bales of fiber
>> one line of meth too many.

>> Little Rosell
>> on the Reels downstairs
>> hot little femme fatale
>> who I would know better later.

>> An unteresting lady
>> in her Daisy Duke shorts
>> and "Flashdance" shirt
>> she was the supervisors' choice.

>> Pipe smoking old Mr. Green
>> found in a hallway
>> died there of old age.

>> The list goes on
>> many who did not survive
>> until the shut down day
>> another poem for another day.

>> At that time of the night
>> with machines all running right
>> many of us could wander
>> have some coffee
>> and get some fresh air.

>> Bob was a good friend
>> at the job
>> quick with a joke
>> or pass his pipe for a toke.

>> Many smokers and drinkers
>> would hang out
>> on the porch
>> outside the Autoclave room.

>> When he heard
>> of my latest domestic disaster
>> Bob offered
>> to rent me a room.

>> In a rented room
>> in Bob's trailer
>> like a scene from The Odd Couple
>> without the laughs.

>> The bottom fell out
>> we didn't get along
>> outside of the job
>> so I moved out
>> to North Highland.

>> I moved in
>> next door to the Holt family
>> old school mill folk
>> in the former mill village.

>> Don, Walter and Karen Holden
>> all worked at
>> Shadowville Spinning Mill
>> like their family before them.

>> Karen worked in the supply room
>> Walter ran the Autoclave in Plant One
>> Don covered my job
>> during the say shift.

>> For some reason
>> it was important to them
>> that they tell Mr. Newberry
>> that I was their cousin.

>> I never did figure that out
>> but it was cool with me.
>> I liked them all
>> they were down to Earth folks.

>> The day I moved in
>> I had my music playing loud
>> outside my window
>> was the river
>> and then Alabama.

>> I would never have imagined
>> how that area would look now
>> with the row of houses demolished
>> and with the Riverwalk below.

>> I was two floors up
>> but I still felt
>> like a mole
>> like a subterranean.

>> Wake up
>> it was Monday
>> I could hear Billy Teakson
>> blowing his horn in his pickup truck
>> down below.

>> Billy was an old school
>> Card and Blending room man
>> never late
>> sick or well he was on the job.

>> Slither down the stairs
>> so far so good
>> jump in and ride on
>> the the alternate universe
>> the factory.

>> He never failed
>> to have a spare Budweiser
>> and a smoke
>> for the short ride to
>> Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>> We'd get there in time
>> to stand around the parking lot
>> and catch a few words
>> with the crew.

>> Then the whistle would blow
>> and it was on your mark
>> sail through 12 hours of dream
>> in another land.

>> Grabbed a cup of rotgut
>> mill coffee
>> and then
>> in a determined stroll.

>> Up to the Bobbin Winders
>> and the upstairs Reels
>> to catch everything up quick
>> get the game going right.

>> Then down the elevator
>> to the Spinning room
>> sweat shop
>> a dozen ladies
>> smoking and yelling conversations.

>> Loud roaring
>> antique seeming machinery
>> all all points
>> no escape from
>> the chaos and thunder.

>> Get it all caught up
>> then down to the sub basement
>> to pick up the prize left for me
>> by Don
>> my first shift doppelganger.

>> Any time Don
>> skipped out early
>> and left everything
>> off the mark, it was no problem.

>> He'd leave me a joint
>> at a certain spot
>> in the sub basement.

>> The basement was
>> creepy enough
>> but the sub basement
>> seemed right out
>> of a horror movie.

>> Needless to say
>> I'd keep my head down
>> and would try to get out
>> of the sub basement quickly.

>> I had been distributing
>> my broadsheets
>> among my co-worker friends
>> news of the day
>> with a twist.

>> They were entertained
>> by my poetry
>> and comic strips
>> looking for themselves
>> in the lines on paper.

>> Pat, the personnel director
>> called me in her office
>> and put the kibosh
>> on my broadsheet.

>> My poetry and art zine
>> had violated the strict
>> "No Distribution" policy
>> that no outside reading
>> was permitted inside the mill gates.

>> Since I had not been
>> aware of this policy
>> I apologized
>> and kept the broadsides
>> outside the gates from then on.

On Tuesday, January 17, 2023 at 6:20:15 PM UTC-5, General-Zod wrote:
> Will Dockery wrote:
> >
> > Passage Through Ennui
>
> > 35 years ago
> > it was another
> > long bitter Summer
> > that dark humid July 1985.
>
> > I was working
> > the graveyard shift
> > operating one of the service elevators
> > at Shadowville Spinning Mill.
>
> > Galatea and I
> > had split up again
> > earlier in the year
> > after our explosive reunion
> > in 1983.
>
> > It ended quickly
> > after a huge fight
> > with her brother
> > over an old score
> > usually forgotten.
>
> > I won the fight
> > but actually lost.
> > Tracy gave up
> > and Galatea left with him.
>
> > The year
> > it all came apart
> > seemingly permanent.
> > Two years of good times
> > ended in a moonshine rage. .
>
> > All I could see was
> > a shut down gloom.
> > The only laughter I heard
> > was down in the break room.
>
> > The brown haze of factory air
> > angry faced people
> > and the music
> > of metal machines.
>
> > Working all night
> > sleeping all day.
> > Sipping coffee
> > to chase the road aspirins.
>
> > Sitting on the steps
> > over by a giant fan.
> > keeping up with my workers
> > usually five ladies
> > at the machines.
>
> > If one of the ladies
> > needed anything
> > they'd just look my way
> > and wave.
>
> > Several times a night
> > I'd make a buy and fly
> > bringing back coffee for them
> > on makeshift cardboard trays.
>
> > Jotting down notes
> > doodling narratives
> > creating reality
> > building Shadowville
> > from the ground up.
>
> > Riding my elevator
> > up and down
> > creating samizdat
> > in the smoking booth.
>
> > Down to the Reel room
> > my elevator filled
> > with empty racks
> > to bring up the full ones
> > for the ladies upstairs.
>
> > All night
> > keeping it rolling
> > making it smooth
> > for the ladies
> > to make production.
>
> > Finally to clock out
> > as the sad whistle would blow
> > we would stumble out the gate
> > into the grey dawn.
>
> > Some headed for breakfast
> > and a beer
> > while always I headed home
> > for sleep
> > as quickly as possible.
>
> > Living at Mockingbird Court
> > where I had shared a trailer
> > with my friend Bob Whitman
> > an Army vet turned factory worker.
>
> > Bob worked downstairs
> > at the Autoclave
> > the machine that steamed chemicals
> > into the yarn.
>
> > Bob's sidekick Jim Berg
> > ran the huge Dryers
> > a super hot
> > chemical steam bath area.
>
> > Jim married
> > my childhood friend Pamela
> > and passed away too soon
> > from a heart attack
>
> > I'm not sure how workers
> > down there
> > survived the heat
> > and harsh smell.
>
> > Actually
> > I noticed not so well
> > as years went by
> > several old friends
> > still haunt me.
>
> > There was a guy named Bill
> > from Chicago
> > found in the Dryer room
> > coughing up blood from TB.
>
> > Chip, another Autoclave man
> > was found
> > giggling in the warehouse
> > up in the bales of fiber
> > one line of meth too many.
>
> > Little Rosell
> > on the Reels downstairs
> > hot little femme fatale
> > who I would know better later.
>
> > An unteresting lady
> > in her Daisy Duke shorts
> > and "Flashdance" shirt
> > she was the supervisors' choice.
>
> > Pipe smoking old Mr. Green
> > found in a hallway
> > died there of old age.
>
> > The list goes on
> > many who did not survive
> > until the shut down day
> > another poem for another day.
>
> > At that time of the night
> > with machines all running right
> > many of us could wander
> > have some coffee
> > and get some fresh air.
>
> > Bob was a good friend
> > at the job
> > quick with a joke
> > or pass his pipe for a toke.
>
> > Many smokers and drinkers
> > would hang out
> > on the porch
> > outside the Autoclave room.
>
> > When he heard
> > of my latest domestic disaster
> > Bob offered
> > to rent me a room.
>
> > In a rented room
> > in Bob's trailer
> > like a scene from The Odd Couple
> > without the laughs.
>
> > The bottom fell out
> > we didn't get along
> > outside of the job
> > so I moved out
> > to North Highland.
>
> > I moved in
> > next door to the Holt family
> > old school mill folk
> > in the former mill village.
>
> > Don, Walter and Karen Holden
> > all worked at
> > Shadowville Spinning Mill
> > like their family before them.
>
> > Karen worked in the supply room
> > Walter ran the Autoclave in Plant One
> > Don covered my job
> > during the say shift.
>
> > For some reason
> > it was important to them
> > that they tell Mr. Newberry
> > that I was their cousin.
>
> > I never did figure that out
> > but it was cool with me.
> > I liked them all
> > they were down to Earth folks.
>
> > The day I moved in
> > I had my music playing loud
> > outside my window
> > was the river
> > and then Alabama.
>
> > I would never have imagined
> > how that area would look now
> > with the row of houses demolished
> > and with the Riverwalk below.
>
> > I was two floors up
> > but I still felt
> > like a mole
> > like a subterranean.
>
> > Wake up
> > it was Monday
> > I could hear Billy Teakson
> > blowing his horn in his pickup truck
> > down below.
>
> > Billy was an old school
> > Card and Blending room man
> > never late
> > sick or well he was on the job.
>
> > Slither down the stairs
> > so far so good
> > jump in and ride on
> > the the alternate universe
> > the factory.
>
> > He never failed
> > to have a spare Budweiser
> > and a smoke
> > for the short ride to
> > Shadowville Spinning Mill.
>
> > We'd get there in time
> > to stand around the parking lot
> > and catch a few words
> > with the crew.
>
> > Then the whistle would blow
> > and it was on your mark
> > sail through 12 hours of dream
> > in another land.
>
> > Grabbed a cup of rotgut
> > mill coffee
> > and then
> > in a determined stroll.
>
> > Up to the Bobbin Winders
> > and the upstairs Reels
> > to catch everything up quick
> > get the game going right.
>
> > Then down the elevator
> > to the Spinning room
> > sweat shop
> > a dozen ladies
> > smoking and yelling conversations.
>
> > Loud roaring
> > antique seeming machinery
> > all all points
> > no escape from
> > the chaos and thunder.
>
> > Get it all caught up
> > then down to the sub basement
> > to pick up the prize left for me
> > by Don
> > my first shift doppelganger.
>
> > Any time Don
> > skipped out early
> > and left everything
> > off the mark, it was no problem.
>
> > He'd leave me a joint
> > at a certain spot
> > in the sub basement.
>
> > The basement was
> > creepy enough
> > but the sub basement
> > seemed right out
> > of a horror movie.
>
> > Needless to say
> > I'd keep my head down
> > and would try to get out
> > of the sub basement quickly.
>
> > I had been distributing
> > my broadsheets
> > among my co-worker friends
> > news of the day
> > with a twist.
>
> > They were entertained
> > by my poetry
> > and comic strips
> > looking for themselves
> > in the lines on paper.
>
> > Pat, the personnel director
> > called me in her office
> > and put the kibosh
> > on my broadsheet.
>
> > My poetry and art zine
> > had violated the strict
> > "No Distribution" policy
> > that no outside reading
> > was permitted inside the mill gates.
>
> > Since I had not been
> > aware of this policy
> > I apologized
> > and kept the broadsides
> > outside the gates from then on.
>
> > Absolutely
> > no foreknowledge
> > of what was coming next
> > taking one minute at a time.
>
> > Getting from one minute
> > to the next
> > always in a hurry
> > caught up in the time
> > flashing by.
>
> > Not even giving a damn
> > or so I told myself
> > by that point in time
> > hoping for a speedy turnabout.
>
> > I never could have foreseen
> > twenty years later in 2005
> > standing in a crowd
> > watching the old mill in flames
>
> > I was living
> > in the worn out townhouse
> > at 3226 River Avenue
> > once part of a mill village.
>
> > First week of the month
> > was always annoying
> > so much noise
> > as I tried to sleep.
>
> > All day hearing Mr. Newberry
> > beating on the sides
> > of the houses with his cane
> > trying to collect his rent money.
>
> > Alone
> > in my upstairs office
> > writing my manifesto
> > in poetry and comic strips.
>
> > Right side duplex
> > next door to the Holden family.
> > Two stories overlooking
> > the dark green Chattahoochee.
>
> > If I had the foresight
> > I would know sitting and waiting
> > was wasting precious time
> > the cruelty of moments.
>
> > Time can't be saved
> > like in a bank.
> > I thought I was biding my time
> > while I was losing everything.
>
> > As the North Highland
> > sun blazed down.
> > And as the cool white moon
> > seemed to watch over it all.
>
> > The big rooms
> > and empty house
> > suited my mood
> > my lonesome and blue.
>
> > Looking out my upstairs window
> > dabbling on a canvas
> > not a clue
> > what was to come.
>
> > Walked down to Forte's Pharmacy
> > for a beer and some smokes
> > the place is long gone now
> > 35 years later.
>
> > Back then it was
> > the general store
> > where the locals stood around
> > shooting the breeze.
>
> > Although relatively close
> > the walk was winding
> > to get around
> > the far side of the factory.
>
> > Found a girl named Margo
> > she lived
> > a few doors down
> > from my place.
>
> > She said she liked my music
> > but had thought Bob Dylan's song
> > was The Clash
> > but I found her naivete charming.
>
> > Took her out and played the game
> > but my heart
> > just wasn't in it
> > I never saw Margo again
> > after that night.
>
> > At that time all seemed lost
> > just goes to show
> > I'm not much of a fortune teller
> > but kept hope alive.
>
> > Many nights seemed like others
> > so I trudged
> > through the days
> > wrote poetry
> > through the night.
>
> > Crossed my heart
> > and looked forward
> > to good luck
> > and happy days again.
>
> > No happy ending
> > was expected
> > in the foreseeable future
> > just more of the same.
>
> > -Will Dockery
>
> > ------------------------------
> > From the Shadowville Mythos poetry blog:
> > https://shadowville-mythos.blogspot.com/2021/04/passage-through-ennui.html
> Third read and still quite excellent.....

Family Guy wrote:
> Will Dockery wrote:

------------------------------
From the Shadowville Mythos poetry blog:
https://shadowville-mythos.blogspot.com/2021/04/passage-through-ennui.html

> > This poem is another based on true events.
> You getting high?
> That was shit.

Troll much, Alex?

:)

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Passage Through Ennui

>> 35 years ago
>> it was another
>> long bitter Summer
>> that dark humid July 1985.

>> I was working
>> the graveyard shift
>> operating one of the service elevators
>> at Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>> Galatea and I
>> had split up again
>> earlier in the year
>> after our explosive reunion
>> in 1983.

>> It ended quickly
>> after a huge fight
>> with her brother
>> over an old score
>> usually forgotten.

>> I won the fight
>> but actually lost.
>> Tracy gave up
>> and Galatea left with him.

>> The year
>> it all came apart
>> seemingly permanent.
>> Two years of good times
>> ended in a moonshine rage. .

>> All I could see was
>> a shut down gloom.
>> The only laughter I heard
>> was down in the break room.

>> The brown haze of factory air
>> angry faced people
>> and the music
>> of metal machines.

>> Working all night
>> sleeping all day.
>> Sipping coffee
>> to chase the road aspirins.

>> Sitting on the steps
>> over by a giant fan.
>> keeping up with my workers
>> usually five ladies
>> at the machines.

>> If one of the ladies
>> needed anything
>> they'd just look my way
>> and wave.

>> Several times a night
>> I'd make a buy and fly
>> bringing back coffee for them
>> on makeshift cardboard trays.

>> Jotting down notes
>> doodling narratives
>> creating reality
>> building Shadowville
>> from the ground up.

>> Riding my elevator
>> up and down
>> creating samizdat
>> in the smoking booth.

>> Down to the Reel room
>> my elevator filled
>> with empty racks
>> to bring up the full ones
>> for the ladies upstairs.

>> All night
>> keeping it rolling
>> making it smooth
>> for the ladies
>> to make production.

>> Finally to clock out
>> as the sad whistle would blow
>> we would stumble out the gate
>> into the grey dawn.

>> Some headed for breakfast
>> and a beer
>> while always I headed home
>> for sleep
>> as quickly as possible.

>> Living at Mockingbird Court
>> where I had shared a trailer
>> with my friend Bob Whitman
>> an Army vet turned factory worker.

>> Bob worked downstairs
>> at the Autoclave
>> the machine that steamed chemicals
>> into the yarn.

>> Bob's sidekick Jim Berg
>> ran the huge Dryers
>> a super hot
>> chemical steam bath area.

>> Jim married
>> my childhood friend Pamela
>> and passed away too soon
>> from a heart attack

>> I'm not sure how workers
>> down there
>> survived the heat
>> and harsh smell.

>> Actually
>> I noticed not so well
>> as years went by
>> several old friends
>> still haunt me.

>> There was a guy named Bill
>> from Chicago
>> found in the Dryer room
>> coughing up blood from TB.

>> Chip, another Autoclave man
>> was found
>> giggling in the warehouse
>> up in the bales of fiber
>> one line of meth too many.

>> Little Rosell
>> on the Reels downstairs
>> hot little femme fatale
>> who I would know better later.

>> An unteresting lady
>> in her Daisy Duke shorts
>> and "Flashdance" shirt
>> she was the supervisors' choice.

>> Pipe smoking old Mr. Green
>> found in a hallway
>> died there of old age.

>> The list goes on
>> many who did not survive
>> until the shut down day
>> another poem for another day.

>> At that time of the night
>> with machines all running right
>> many of us could wander
>> have some coffee
>> and get some fresh air.

>> Bob was a good friend
>> at the job
>> quick with a joke
>> or pass his pipe for a toke.

>> Many smokers and drinkers
>> would hang out
>> on the porch
>> outside the Autoclave room.

>> When he heard
>> of my latest domestic disaster
>> Bob offered
>> to rent me a room.

>> In a rented room
>> in Bob's trailer
>> like a scene from The Odd Couple
>> without the laughs.

>> The bottom fell out
>> we didn't get along
>> outside of the job
>> so I moved out
>> to North Highland.

>> I moved in
>> next door to the Holt family
>> old school mill folk
>> in the former mill village.

>> Don, Walter and Karen Holden
>> all worked at
>> Shadowville Spinning Mill
>> like their family before them.

>> Karen worked in the supply room
>> Walter ran the Autoclave in Plant One
>> Don covered my job
>> during the say shift.

>> For some reason
>> it was important to them
>> that they tell Mr. Newberry
>> that I was their cousin.

>> I never did figure that out
>> but it was cool with me.
>> I liked them all
>> they were down to Earth folks.

>> The day I moved in
>> I had my music playing loud
>> outside my window
>> was the river
>> and then Alabama.

>> I would never have imagined
>> how that area would look now
>> with the row of houses demolished
>> and with the Riverwalk below.

>> I was two floors up
>> but I still felt
>> like a mole
>> like a subterranean.

>> Wake up
>> it was Monday
>> I could hear Billy Teakson
>> blowing his horn in his pickup truck
>> down below.

>> Billy was an old school
>> Card and Blending room man
>> never late
>> sick or well he was on the job.

>> Slither down the stairs
>> so far so good
>> jump in and ride on
>> the the alternate universe
>> the factory.

>> He never failed
>> to have a spare Budweiser
>> and a smoke
>> for the short ride to
>> Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>> We'd get there in time
>> to stand around the parking lot
>> and catch a few words
>> with the crew.

>> Then the whistle would blow
>> and it was on your mark
>> sail through 12 hours of dream
>> in another land.

>> Grabbed a cup of rotgut
>> mill coffee
>> and then
>> in a determined stroll.

>> Up to the Bobbin Winders
>> and the upstairs Reels
>> to catch everything up quick
>> get the game going right.

>> Then down the elevator
>> to the Spinning room
>> sweat shop
>> a dozen ladies
>> smoking and yelling conversations.

>> Loud roaring
>> antique seeming machinery
>> all all points
>> no escape from
>> the chaos and thunder.

>> Get it all caught up
>> then down to the sub basement
>> to pick up the prize left for me
>> by Don
>> my first shift doppelganger.

>> Any time Don
>> skipped out early
>> and left everything
>> off the mark, it was no problem.

>> He'd leave me a joint
>> at a certain spot
>> in the sub basement.

>> The basement was
>> creepy enough
>> but the sub basement
>> seemed right out
>> of a horror movie.

>> Needless to say
>> I'd keep my head down
>> and would try to get out
>> of the sub basement quickly.

>> I had been distributing
>> my broadsheets
>> among my co-worker friends
>> news of the day
>> with a twist.

>> They were entertained
>> by my poetry
>> and comic strips
>> looking for themselves
>> in the lines on paper.

>> Pat, the personnel director
>> called me in her office
>> and put the kibosh
>> on my broadsheet.

>> My poetry and art zine
>> had violated the strict
>> "No Distribution" policy
>> that no outside reading
>> was permitted inside the mill gates.

>> Since I had not been
>> aware of this policy
>> I apologized
>> and kept the broadsides
>> outside the gates from then on.

Will Dockery wrote:
>
> Passage Through Ennui

> 35 years ago
> it was another
> long bitter Summer
> that dark humid July 1985.

> I was working
> the graveyard shift
> operating one of the service elevators
> at Shadowville Spinning Mill.

> Galatea and I
> had split up again
> earlier in the year
> after our explosive reunion
> in 1983.

> It ended quickly
> after a huge fight
> with her brother
> over an old score
> usually forgotten.

> I won the fight
> but actually lost.
> Tracy gave up
> and Galatea left with him.

> The year
> it all came apart
> seemingly permanent.
> Two years of good times
> ended in a moonshine rage. .

> All I could see was
> a shut down gloom.
> The only laughter I heard
> was down in the break room.

> The brown haze of factory air
> angry faced people
> and the music
> of metal machines.

> Working all night
> sleeping all day.
> Sipping coffee
> to chase the road aspirins.

> Sitting on the steps
> over by a giant fan.
> keeping up with my workers
> usually five ladies
> at the machines.

> If one of the ladies
> needed anything
> they'd just look my way
> and wave.

> Several times a night
> I'd make a buy and fly
> bringing back coffee for them
> on makeshift cardboard trays.

> Jotting down notes
> doodling narratives
> creating reality
> building Shadowville
> from the ground up.

> Riding my elevator
> up and down
> creating samizdat
> in the smoking booth.

> Down to the Reel room
> my elevator filled
> with empty racks
> to bring up the full ones
> for the ladies upstairs.

> All night
> keeping it rolling
> making it smooth
> for the ladies
> to make production.

> Finally to clock out
> as the sad whistle would blow
> we would stumble out the gate
> into the grey dawn.

> Some headed for breakfast
> and a beer
> while always I headed home
> for sleep
> as quickly as possible.

> Living at Mockingbird Court
> where I had shared a trailer
> with my friend Bob Whitman
> an Army vet turned factory worker.

> Bob worked downstairs
> at the Autoclave
> the machine that steamed chemicals
> into the yarn.

> Bob's sidekick Jim Berg
> ran the huge Dryers
> a super hot
> chemical steam bath area.

> Jim married
> my childhood friend Pamela
> and passed away too soon
> from a heart attack

> I'm not sure how workers
> down there
> survived the heat
> and harsh smell.

> Actually
> I noticed not so well
> as years went by
> several old friends
> still haunt me.

> There was a guy named Bill
> from Chicago
> found in the Dryer room
> coughing up blood from TB.

> Chip, another Autoclave man
> was found
> giggling in the warehouse
> up in the bales of fiber
> one line of meth too many.

> Little Rosell
> on the Reels downstairs
> hot little femme fatale
> who I would know better later.

> An unteresting lady
> in her Daisy Duke shorts
> and "Flashdance" shirt
> she was the supervisors' choice.

> Pipe smoking old Mr. Green
> found in a hallway
> died there of old age.

> The list goes on
> many who did not survive
> until the shut down day
> another poem for another day.

> At that time of the night
> with machines all running right
> many of us could wander
> have some coffee
> and get some fresh air.

> Bob was a good friend
> at the job
> quick with a joke
> or pass his pipe for a toke.

> Many smokers and drinkers
> would hang out
> on the porch
> outside the Autoclave room.

> When he heard
> of my latest domestic disaster
> Bob offered
> to rent me a room.

> In a rented room
> in Bob's trailer
> like a scene from The Odd Couple
> without the laughs.

> The bottom fell out
> we didn't get along
> outside of the job
> so I moved out
> to North Highland.

> I moved in
> next door to the Holt family
> old school mill folk
> in the former mill village.

> Don, Walter and Karen Holden
> all worked at
> Shadowville Spinning Mill
> like their family before them.

> Karen worked in the supply room
> Walter ran the Autoclave in Plant One
> Don covered my job
> during the say shift.

> For some reason
> it was important to them
> that they tell Mr. Newberry
> that I was their cousin.

> I never did figure that out
> but it was cool with me.
> I liked them all
> they were down to Earth folks.

> The day I moved in
> I had my music playing loud
> outside my window
> was the river
> and then Alabama.

> I would never have imagined
> how that area would look now
> with the row of houses demolished
> and with the Riverwalk below.

> I was two floors up
> but I still felt
> like a mole
> like a subterranean.

> Wake up
> it was Monday
> I could hear Billy Teakson
> blowing his horn in his pickup truck
> down below.

> Billy was an old school
> Card and Blending room man
> never late
> sick or well he was on the job.

> Slither down the stairs
> so far so good
> jump in and ride on
> the the alternate universe
> the factory.

> He never failed
> to have a spare Budweiser
> and a smoke
> for the short ride to
> Shadowville Spinning Mill.

> We'd get there in time
> to stand around the parking lot
> and catch a few words
> with the crew.

> Then the whistle would blow
> and it was on your mark
> sail through 12 hours of dream
> in another land.

> Grabbed a cup of rotgut
> mill coffee
> and then
> in a determined stroll.

> Up to the Bobbin Winders
> and the upstairs Reels
> to catch everything up quick
> get the game going right.

> Then down the elevator
> to the Spinning room
> sweat shop
> a dozen ladies
> smoking and yelling conversations.

> Loud roaring
> antique seeming machinery
> all all points
> no escape from
> the chaos and thunder.

> Get it all caught up
> then down to the sub basement
> to pick up the prize left for me
> by Don
> my first shift doppelganger.

> Any time Don
> skipped out early
> and left everything
> off the mark, it was no problem.

> He'd leave me a joint
> at a certain spot
> in the sub basement.

> The basement was
> creepy enough
> but the sub basement
> seemed right out
> of a horror movie.

> Needless to say
> I'd keep my head down
> and would try to get out
> of the sub basement quickly.

> I had been distributing
> my broadsheets
> among my co-worker friends
> news of the day
> with a twist.

> They were entertained
> by my poetry
> and comic strips
> looking for themselves
> in the lines on paper.

> Pat, the personnel director
> called me in her office
> and put the kibosh
> on my broadsheet.

> My poetry and art zine
> had violated the strict
> "No Distribution" policy
> that no outside reading
> was permitted inside the mill gates.

> Since I had not been
> aware of this policy
> I apologized
> and kept the broadsides
> outside the gates from then on.

> Absolutely
> no foreknowledge
> of what was coming next
> taking one minute at a time.

> Getting from one minute
> to the next
> always in a hurry
> caught up in the time
> flashing by.

> Not even giving a damn
> or so I told myself
> by that point in time
> hoping for a speedy turnabout.

> I never could have foreseen
> twenty years later in 2005
> standing in a crowd
> watching the old mill in flames

> I was living
> in the worn out townhouse
> at 3226 River Avenue
> once part of a mill village.

> First week of the month
> was always annoying
> so much noise
> as I tried to sleep.

> All day hearing Mr. Newberry
> beating on the sides
> of the houses with his cane
> trying to collect his rent money.

> Alone
> in my upstairs office
> writing my manifesto
> in poetry and comic strips.

General-Zod wrote:
> Will Dockery wrote:
>> General-Zod wrote:
>>> Will Dockery wrote:
>
>>>> Passage Through Ennui
>
>>>> 35 years ago
>>>> it was another
>>>> long bitter Summer
>>>> that dark humid July 1985.

>>>> I was working
>>>> the graveyard shift
>>>> operating one of the service elevators
>>>> at Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>>>> Galatea and I
>>>> had split up again
>>>> earlier in the year
>>>> after our explosive reunion
>>>> in 1983.

>>>> It ended quickly
>>>> after a huge fight
>>>> with her brother
>>>> over an old score
>>>> usually forgotten.

>>>> I won the fight
>>>> but actually lost.
>>>> Tracy gave up
>>>> and Galatea left with him.

>>>> The year
>>>> it all came apart
>>>> seemingly permanent.
>>>> Two years of good times
>>>> ended in a moonshine rage. .

>>>> All I could see was
>>>> a shut down gloom.
>>>> The only laughter I heard
>>>> was down in the break room.

>>>> The brown haze of factory air
>>>> angry faced people
>>>> and the music
>>>> of metal machines.

>>>> Working all night
>>>> sleeping all day.
>>>> Sipping coffee
>>>> to chase the road aspirins.

>>>> Sitting on the steps
>>>> over by a giant fan.
>>>> keeping up with my workers
>>>> usually five ladies
>>>> at the machines.

>>>> If one of the ladies
>>>> needed anything
>>>> they'd just look my way
>>>> and wave.

>>>> Several times a night
>>>> I'd make a buy and fly
>>>> bringing back coffee for them
>>>> on makeshift cardboard trays.

>>>> Jotting down notes
>>>> doodling narratives
>>>> creating reality
>>>> building Shadowville
>>>> from the ground up.

>>>> Riding my elevator
>>>> up and down
>>>> creating samizdat
>>>> in the smoking booth.

>>>> Down to the Reel room
>>>> my elevator filled
>>>> with empty racks
>>>> to bring up the full ones
>>>> for the ladies upstairs.

>>>> All night
>>>> keeping it rolling
>>>> making it smooth
>>>> for the ladies
>>>> to make production.

>>>> Finally to clock out
>>>> as the sad whistle would blow
>>>> we would stumble out the gate
>>>> into the grey dawn.

>>>> Some headed for breakfast
>>>> and a beer
>>>> while always I headed home
>>>> for sleep
>>>> as quickly as possible.

>>>> Living at Mockingbird Court
>>>> where I had shared a trailer
>>>> with my friend Bob Whitman
>>>> an Army vet turned factory worker.

>>>> Bob worked downstairs
>>>> at the Autoclave
>>>> the machine that steamed chemicals
>>>> into the yarn.

>>>> Bob's sidekick Jim Berg
>>>> ran the huge Dryers
>>>> a super hot
>>>> chemical steam bath area.

>>>> Jim married
>>>> my childhood friend Pamela
>>>> and passed away too soon
>>>> from a heart attack

>>>> I'm not sure how workers
>>>> down there
>>>> survived the heat
>>>> and harsh smell.

>>>> Actually
>>>> I noticed not so well
>>>> as years went by
>>>> several old friends
>>>> still haunt me.

>>>> There was a guy named Bill
>>>> from Chicago
>>>> found in the Dryer room
>>>> coughing up blood from TB.

>>>> Chip, another Autoclave man
>>>> was found
>>>> giggling in the warehouse
>>>> up in the bales of fiber
>>>> one line of meth too many.

>>>> Little Rosell
>>>> on the Reels downstairs
>>>> hot little femme fatale
>>>> who I would know better later.

>>>> An unteresting lady
>>>> in her Daisy Duke shorts
>>>> and "Flashdance" shirt
>>>> she was the supervisors' choice.

>>>> Pipe smoking old Mr. Green
>>>> found in a hallway
>>>> died there of old age.

>>>> The list goes on
>>>> many who did not survive
>>>> until the shut down day
>>>> another poem for another day.

>>>> At that time of the night
>>>> with machines all running right
>>>> many of us could wander
>>>> have some coffee
>>>> and get some fresh air.

>>>> Bob was a good friend
>>>> at the job
>>>> quick with a joke
>>>> or pass his pipe for a toke.

>>>> Many smokers and drinkers
>>>> would hang out
>>>> on the porch
>>>> outside the Autoclave room.

>>>> When he heard
>>>> of my latest domestic disaster
>>>> Bob offered
>>>> to rent me a room.

>>>> In a rented room
>>>> in Bob's trailer
>>>> like a scene from The Odd Couple
>>>> without the laughs.

>>>> The bottom fell out
>>>> we didn't get along
>>>> outside of the job
>>>> so I moved out
>>>> to North Highland.

>>>> I moved in
>>>> next door to the Holt family
>>>> old school mill folk
>>>> in the former mill village.

>>>> Don, Walter and Karen Holden
>>>> all worked at
>>>> Shadowville Spinning Mill
>>>> like their family before them.

>>>> Karen worked in the supply room
>>>> Walter ran the Autoclave in Plant One
>>>> Don covered my job
>>>> during the say shift.

>>>> For some reason
>>>> it was important to them
>>>> that they tell Mr. Newberry
>>>> that I was their cousin.

>>>> I never did figure that out
>>>> but it was cool with me.
>>>> I liked them all
>>>> they were down to Earth folks.

>>>> The day I moved in
>>>> I had my music playing loud
>>>> outside my window
>>>> was the river
>>>> and then Alabama.

>>>> I would never have imagined
>>>> how that area would look now
>>>> with the row of houses demolished
>>>> and with the Riverwalk below.

>>>> I was two floors up
>>>> but I still felt
>>>> like a mole
>>>> like a subterranean.

>>>> Wake up
>>>> it was Monday
>>>> I could hear Billy Teakson
>>>> blowing his horn in his pickup truck
>>>> down below.

>>>> Billy was an old school
>>>> Card and Blending room man
>>>> never late
>>>> sick or well he was on the job.

>>>> Slither down the stairs
>>>> so far so good
>>>> jump in and ride on
>>>> the the alternate universe
>>>> the factory.

>>>> He never failed
>>>> to have a spare Budweiser
>>>> and a smoke
>>>> for the short ride to
>>>> Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>>>> We'd get there in time
>>>> to stand around the parking lot
>>>> and catch a few words
>>>> with the crew.

>>>> Then the whistle would blow
>>>> and it was on your mark
>>>> sail through 12 hours of dream
>>>> in another land.

>>>> Grabbed a cup of rotgut
>>>> mill coffee
>>>> and then
>>>> in a determined stroll.

>>>> Up to the Bobbin Winders
>>>> and the upstairs Reels
>>>> to catch everything up quick
>>>> get the game going right.

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Passage Through Ennui

>> 35 years ago
>> it was another
>> long bitter Summer
>> that dark humid July 1985.

>> I was working
>> the graveyard shift
>> operating one of the service elevators
>> at Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>> Galatea and I
>> had split up again
>> earlier in the year
>> after our explosive reunion
>> in 1983.

>> It ended quickly
>> after a huge fight
>> with her brother
>> over an old score
>> usually forgotten.

>> I won the fight
>> but actually lost.
>> Tracy gave up
>> and Galatea left with him.

>> The year
>> it all came apart
>> seemingly permanent.
>> Two years of good times
>> ended in a moonshine rage. .

>> All I could see was
>> a shut down gloom.
>> The only laughter I heard
>> was down in the break room.

>> The brown haze of factory air
>> angry faced people
>> and the music
>> of metal machines.

>> Working all night
>> sleeping all day.
>> Sipping coffee
>> to chase the road aspirins.

>> Sitting on the steps
>> over by a giant fan.
>> keeping up with my workers
>> usually five ladies
>> at the machines.

>> If one of the ladies
>> needed anything
>> they'd just look my way
>> and wave.

>> Several times a night
>> I'd make a buy and fly
>> bringing back coffee for them
>> on makeshift cardboard trays.

>> Jotting down notes
>> doodling narratives
>> creating reality
>> building Shadowville
>> from the ground up.

>> Riding my elevator
>> up and down
>> creating samizdat
>> in the smoking booth.

>> Down to the Reel room
>> my elevator filled
>> with empty racks
>> to bring up the full ones
>> for the ladies upstairs.

>> All night
>> keeping it rolling
>> making it smooth
>> for the ladies
>> to make production.

>> Finally to clock out
>> as the sad whistle would blow
>> we would stumble out the gate
>> into the grey dawn.

>> Some headed for breakfast
>> and a beer
>> while always I headed home
>> for sleep
>> as quickly as possible.

>> Living at Mockingbird Court
>> where I had shared a trailer
>> with my friend Bob Whitman
>> an Army vet turned factory worker.

>> Bob worked downstairs
>> at the Autoclave
>> the machine that steamed chemicals
>> into the yarn.

>> Bob's sidekick Jim Berg
>> ran the huge Dryers
>> a super hot
>> chemical steam bath area.

>> Jim married
>> my childhood friend Pamela
>> and passed away too soon
>> from a heart attack

>> I'm not sure how workers
>> down there
>> survived the heat
>> and harsh smell.

>> Actually
>> I noticed not so well
>> as years went by
>> several old friends
>> still haunt me.

>> There was a guy named Bill
>> from Chicago
>> found in the Dryer room
>> coughing up blood from TB.

>> Chip, another Autoclave man
>> was found
>> giggling in the warehouse
>> up in the bales of fiber
>> one line of meth too many.

>> Little Rosell
>> on the Reels downstairs
>> hot little femme fatale
>> who I would know better later.

>> An unteresting lady
>> in her Daisy Duke shorts
>> and "Flashdance" shirt
>> she was the supervisors' choice.

>> Pipe smoking old Mr. Green
>> found in a hallway
>> died there of old age.

>> The list goes on
>> many who did not survive
>> until the shut down day
>> another poem for another day.

>> At that time of the night
>> with machines all running right
>> many of us could wander
>> have some coffee
>> and get some fresh air.

>> Bob was a good friend
>> at the job
>> quick with a joke
>> or pass his pipe for a toke.

>> Many smokers and drinkers
>> would hang out
>> on the porch
>> outside the Autoclave room.

>> When he heard
>> of my latest domestic disaster
>> Bob offered
>> to rent me a room.

>> In a rented room
>> in Bob's trailer
>> like a scene from The Odd Couple
>> without the laughs.

>> The bottom fell out
>> we didn't get along
>> outside of the job
>> so I moved out
>> to North Highland.

>> I moved in
>> next door to the Holt family
>> old school mill folk
>> in the former mill village.

>> Don, Walter and Karen Holden
>> all worked at
>> Shadowville Spinning Mill
>> like their family before them.

>> Karen worked in the supply room
>> Walter ran the Autoclave in Plant One
>> Don covered my job
>> during the say shift.

>> For some reason
>> it was important to them
>> that they tell Mr. Newberry
>> that I was their cousin.

>> I never did figure that out
>> but it was cool with me.
>> I liked them all
>> they were down to Earth folks.

>> The day I moved in
>> I had my music playing loud
>> outside my window
>> was the river
>> and then Alabama.

>> I would never have imagined
>> how that area would look now
>> with the row of houses demolished
>> and with the Riverwalk below.

>> I was two floors up
>> but I still felt
>> like a mole
>> like a subterranean.

>> Wake up
>> it was Monday
>> I could hear Billy Teakson
>> blowing his horn in his pickup truck
>> down below.

>> Billy was an old school
>> Card and Blending room man
>> never late
>> sick or well he was on the job.

>> Slither down the stairs
>> so far so good
>> jump in and ride on
>> the the alternate universe
>> the factory.

>> He never failed
>> to have a spare Budweiser
>> and a smoke
>> for the short ride to
>> Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>> We'd get there in time
>> to stand around the parking lot
>> and catch a few words
>> with the crew.

>> Then the whistle would blow
>> and it was on your mark
>> sail through 12 hours of dream
>> in another land.

>> Grabbed a cup of rotgut
>> mill coffee
>> and then
>> in a determined stroll.

>> Up to the Bobbin Winders
>> and the upstairs Reels
>> to catch everything up quick
>> get the game going right.

>> Then down the elevator
>> to the Spinning room
>> sweat shop
>> a dozen ladies
>> smoking and yelling conversations.

>> Loud roaring
>> antique seeming machinery
>> all all points
>> no escape from
>> the chaos and thunder.

>> Get it all caught up
>> then down to the sub basement
>> to pick up the prize left for me
>> by Don
>> my first shift doppelganger.

>> Any time Don
>> skipped out early
>> and left everything
>> off the mark, it was no problem.

>> He'd leave me a joint
>> at a certain spot
>> in the sub basement.

>> The basement was
>> creepy enough
>> but the sub basement
>> seemed right out
>> of a horror movie.

>> Needless to say
>> I'd keep my head down
>> and would try to get out
>> of the sub basement quickly.

>> I had been distributing
>> my broadsheets
>> among my co-worker friends
>> news of the day
>> with a twist.

>> They were entertained
>> by my poetry
>> and comic strips
>> looking for themselves
>> in the lines on paper.

>> Pat, the personnel director
>> called me in her office
>> and put the kibosh
>> on my broadsheet.

>> My poetry and art zine
>> had violated the strict
>> "No Distribution" policy
>> that no outside reading
>> was permitted inside the mill gates.

>> Since I had not been
>> aware of this policy
>> I apologized
>> and kept the broadsides
>> outside the gates from then on.

Family Guy wrote:

> On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 5:01:20 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
>> On Sunday, November 27, 2022 at 7:12:13 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
>> > Family Guy wrote:
>> >
>> > > On Friday, September 30, 2022 at 5:34:58 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
>> > >
>> > >> This poem is another based on true events.
>> From the Shadowville Mythos poetry blog:
>> https://shadowville-mythos.blogspot.com/2021/04/passage-through-ennui.html
>> > > You getting high?
>> > > That was shit.
>> > That's probably just your upper lip you smell, Dink.
>> >
>> > 🙂
>> Ha ha... from having his nose up Chad and Greg's ass..?
>>
>> Ha ha.

> Would you two

Again, troll much, Dink?

🙂

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Passage Through Ennui

>> 35 years ago
>> it was another
>> long bitter Summer
>> that dark humid July 1985.

>> I was working
>> the graveyard shift
>> operating one of the service elevators
>> at Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>> Galatea and I
>> had split up again
>> earlier in the year
>> after our explosive reunion
>> in 1983.

>> It ended quickly
>> after a huge fight
>> with her brother
>> over an old score
>> usually forgotten.

>> I won the fight
>> but actually lost.
>> Tracy gave up
>> and Galatea left with him.

>> The year
>> it all came apart
>> seemingly permanent.
>> Two years of good times
>> ended in a moonshine rage. .

>> All I could see was
>> a shut down gloom.
>> The only laughter I heard
>> was down in the break room.

>> The brown haze of factory air
>> angry faced people
>> and the music
>> of metal machines.

>> Working all night
>> sleeping all day.
>> Sipping coffee
>> to chase the road aspirins.

>> Sitting on the steps
>> over by a giant fan.
>> keeping up with my workers
>> usually five ladies
>> at the machines.

>> If one of the ladies
>> needed anything
>> they'd just look my way
>> and wave.

>> Several times a night
>> I'd make a buy and fly
>> bringing back coffee for them
>> on makeshift cardboard trays.

>> Jotting down notes
>> doodling narratives
>> creating reality
>> building Shadowville
>> from the ground up.

>> Riding my elevator
>> up and down
>> creating samizdat
>> in the smoking booth.

>> Down to the Reel room
>> my elevator filled
>> with empty racks
>> to bring up the full ones
>> for the ladies upstairs.

>> All night
>> keeping it rolling
>> making it smooth
>> for the ladies
>> to make production.

>> Finally to clock out
>> as the sad whistle would blow
>> we would stumble out the gate
>> into the grey dawn.

>> Some headed for breakfast
>> and a beer
>> while always I headed home
>> for sleep
>> as quickly as possible.

>> Living at Mockingbird Court
>> where I had shared a trailer
>> with my friend Bob Whitman
>> an Army vet turned factory worker.

>> Bob worked downstairs
>> at the Autoclave
>> the machine that steamed chemicals
>> into the yarn.

>> Bob's sidekick Jim Berg
>> ran the huge Dryers
>> a super hot
>> chemical steam bath area.

>> Jim married
>> my childhood friend Pamela
>> and passed away too soon
>> from a heart attack

>> I'm not sure how workers
>> down there
>> survived the heat
>> and harsh smell.

>> Actually
>> I noticed not so well
>> as years went by
>> several old friends
>> still haunt me.

>> There was a guy named Bill
>> from Chicago
>> found in the Dryer room
>> coughing up blood from TB.

>> Chip, another Autoclave man
>> was found
>> giggling in the warehouse
>> up in the bales of fiber
>> one line of meth too many.

>> Little Rosell
>> on the Reels downstairs
>> hot little femme fatale
>> who I would know better later.

>> An unteresting lady
>> in her Daisy Duke shorts
>> and "Flashdance" shirt
>> she was the supervisors' choice.

>> Pipe smoking old Mr. Green
>> found in a hallway
>> died there of old age.

>> The list goes on
>> many who did not survive
>> until the shut down day
>> another poem for another day.

>> At that time of the night
>> with machines all running right
>> many of us could wander
>> have some coffee
>> and get some fresh air.

>> Bob was a good friend
>> at the job
>> quick with a joke
>> or pass his pipe for a toke.

>> Many smokers and drinkers
>> would hang out
>> on the porch
>> outside the Autoclave room.

>> When he heard
>> of my latest domestic disaster
>> Bob offered
>> to rent me a room.

>> In a rented room
>> in Bob's trailer
>> like a scene from The Odd Couple
>> without the laughs.

>> The bottom fell out
>> we didn't get along
>> outside of the job
>> so I moved out
>> to North Highland.

>> I moved in
>> next door to the Holt family
>> old school mill folk
>> in the former mill village.

>> Don, Walter and Karen Holden
>> all worked at
>> Shadowville Spinning Mill
>> like their family before them.

>> Karen worked in the supply room
>> Walter ran the Autoclave in Plant One
>> Don covered my job
>> during the say shift.

>> For some reason
>> it was important to them
>> that they tell Mr. Newberry
>> that I was their cousin.

>> I never did figure that out
>> but it was cool with me.
>> I liked them all
>> they were down to Earth folks.

>> The day I moved in
>> I had my music playing loud
>> outside my window
>> was the river
>> and then Alabama.

>> I would never have imagined
>> how that area would look now
>> with the row of houses demolished
>> and with the Riverwalk below.

>> I was two floors up
>> but I still felt
>> like a mole
>> like a subterranean.

>> Wake up
>> it was Monday
>> I could hear Billy Teakson
>> blowing his horn in his pickup truck
>> down below.

>> Billy was an old school
>> Card and Blending room man
>> never late
>> sick or well he was on the job.

>> Slither down the stairs
>> so far so good
>> jump in and ride on
>> the the alternate universe
>> the factory.

>> He never failed
>> to have a spare Budweiser
>> and a smoke
>> for the short ride to
>> Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>> We'd get there in time
>> to stand around the parking lot
>> and catch a few words
>> with the crew.

>> Then the whistle would blow
>> and it was on your mark
>> sail through 12 hours of dream
>> in another land.

>> Grabbed a cup of rotgut
>> mill coffee
>> and then
>> in a determined stroll.

>> Up to the Bobbin Winders
>> and the upstairs Reels
>> to catch everything up quick
>> get the game going right.

>> Then down the elevator
>> to the Spinning room
>> sweat shop
>> a dozen ladies
>> smoking and yelling conversations.

>> Loud roaring
>> antique seeming machinery
>> all all points
>> no escape from
>> the chaos and thunder.

>> Get it all caught up
>> then down to the sub basement
>> to pick up the prize left for me
>> by Don
>> my first shift doppelganger.

>> Any time Don
>> skipped out early
>> and left everything
>> off the mark, it was no problem.

>> He'd leave me a joint
>> at a certain spot
>> in the sub basement.

>> The basement was
>> creepy enough
>> but the sub basement
>> seemed right out
>> of a horror movie.

>> Needless to say
>> I'd keep my head down
>> and would try to get out
>> of the sub basement quickly.

>> I had been distributing
>> my broadsheets
>> among my co-worker friends
>> news of the day
>> with a twist.

>> They were entertained
>> by my poetry
>> and comic strips
>> looking for themselves
>> in the lines on paper.

>> Pat, the personnel director
>> called me in her office
>> and put the kibosh
>> on my broadsheet.

>> My poetry and art zine
>> had violated the strict
>> "No Distribution" policy
>> that no outside reading
>> was permitted inside the mill gates.

>> Since I had not been
>> aware of this policy
>> I apologized
>> and kept the broadsides
>> outside the gates from then on.

On Friday, September 30, 2022 at 5:34:58 PM UTC-4, W.Dockery wrote:
> General-Zod wrote:
>
> > Will Dockery wrote:
> >>
> >> Passage Through Ennui
>
> >> 35 years ago
> >> it was another
> >> long bitter Summer
> >> that dark humid July 1985.
>
> >> I was working
> >> the graveyard shift
> >> operating one of the service elevators
> >> at Shadowville Spinning Mill.
>
> >> Galatea and I
> >> had split up again
> >> earlier in the year
> >> after our explosive reunion
> >> in 1983.
>
> >> It ended quickly
> >> after a huge fight
> >> with her brother
> >> over an old score
> >> usually forgotten.
>
> >> I won the fight
> >> but actually lost.
> >> Tracy gave up
> >> and Galatea left with him.
>
> >> The year
> >> it all came apart
> >> seemingly permanent.
> >> Two years of good times
> >> ended in a moonshine rage. .
>
> >> All I could see was
> >> a shut down gloom.
> >> The only laughter I heard
> >> was down in the break room.
>
> >> The brown haze of factory air
> >> angry faced people
> >> and the music
> >> of metal machines.
>
> >> Working all night
> >> sleeping all day.
> >> Sipping coffee
> >> to chase the road aspirins.
>
> >> Sitting on the steps
> >> over by a giant fan.
> >> keeping up with my workers
> >> usually five ladies
> >> at the machines.
>
> >> If one of the ladies
> >> needed anything
> >> they'd just look my way
> >> and wave.
>
> >> Several times a night
> >> I'd make a buy and fly
> >> bringing back coffee for them
> >> on makeshift cardboard trays.
>
> >> Jotting down notes
> >> doodling narratives
> >> creating reality
> >> building Shadowville
> >> from the ground up.
>
> >> Riding my elevator
> >> up and down
> >> creating samizdat
> >> in the smoking booth.
>
> >> Down to the Reel room
> >> my elevator filled
> >> with empty racks
> >> to bring up the full ones
> >> for the ladies upstairs.
>
> >> All night
> >> keeping it rolling
> >> making it smooth
> >> for the ladies
> >> to make production.
>
> >> Finally to clock out
> >> as the sad whistle would blow
> >> we would stumble out the gate
> >> into the grey dawn.
>
> >> Some headed for breakfast
> >> and a beer
> >> while always I headed home
> >> for sleep
> >> as quickly as possible.
>
> >> Living at Mockingbird Court
> >> where I had shared a trailer
> >> with my friend Bob Whitman
> >> an Army vet turned factory worker.
>
> >> Bob worked downstairs
> >> at the Autoclave
> >> the machine that steamed chemicals
> >> into the yarn.
>
> >> Bob's sidekick Jim Berg
> >> ran the huge Dryers
> >> a super hot
> >> chemical steam bath area.
>
> >> Jim married
> >> my childhood friend Pamela
> >> and passed away too soon
> >> from a heart attack
>
> >> I'm not sure how workers
> >> down there
> >> survived the heat
> >> and harsh smell.
>
> >> Actually
> >> I noticed not so well
> >> as years went by
> >> several old friends
> >> still haunt me.
>
> >> There was a guy named Bill
> >> from Chicago
> >> found in the Dryer room
> >> coughing up blood from TB.
>
> >> Chip, another Autoclave man
> >> was found
> >> giggling in the warehouse
> >> up in the bales of fiber
> >> one line of meth too many.
>
> >> Little Rosell
> >> on the Reels downstairs
> >> hot little femme fatale
> >> who I would know better later.
>
> >> An unteresting lady
> >> in her Daisy Duke shorts
> >> and "Flashdance" shirt
> >> she was the supervisors' choice.
>
> >> Pipe smoking old Mr. Green
> >> found in a hallway
> >> died there of old age.
>
> >> The list goes on
> >> many who did not survive
> >> until the shut down day
> >> another poem for another day.
>
> >> At that time of the night
> >> with machines all running right
> >> many of us could wander
> >> have some coffee
> >> and get some fresh air.
>
> >> Bob was a good friend
> >> at the job
> >> quick with a joke
> >> or pass his pipe for a toke.
>
> >> Many smokers and drinkers
> >> would hang out
> >> on the porch
> >> outside the Autoclave room.
>
> >> When he heard
> >> of my latest domestic disaster
> >> Bob offered
> >> to rent me a room.
>
> >> In a rented room
> >> in Bob's trailer
> >> like a scene from The Odd Couple
> >> without the laughs.
>
> >> The bottom fell out
> >> we didn't get along
> >> outside of the job
> >> so I moved out
> >> to North Highland.
>
> >> I moved in
> >> next door to the Holt family
> >> old school mill folk
> >> in the former mill village.
>
> >> Don, Walter and Karen Holden
> >> all worked at
> >> Shadowville Spinning Mill
> >> like their family before them.
>
> >> Karen worked in the supply room
> >> Walter ran the Autoclave in Plant One
> >> Don covered my job
> >> during the say shift.
>
> >> For some reason
> >> it was important to them
> >> that they tell Mr. Newberry
> >> that I was their cousin.
>
> >> I never did figure that out
> >> but it was cool with me.
> >> I liked them all
> >> they were down to Earth folks.
>
> >> The day I moved in
> >> I had my music playing loud
> >> outside my window
> >> was the river
> >> and then Alabama.
>
> >> I would never have imagined
> >> how that area would look now
> >> with the row of houses demolished
> >> and with the Riverwalk below.
>
> >> I was two floors up
> >> but I still felt
> >> like a mole
> >> like a subterranean.
>
> >> Wake up
> >> it was Monday
> >> I could hear Billy Teakson
> >> blowing his horn in his pickup truck
> >> down below.
>
> >> Billy was an old school
> >> Card and Blending room man
> >> never late
> >> sick or well he was on the job.
>
> >> Slither down the stairs
> >> so far so good
> >> jump in and ride on
> >> the the alternate universe
> >> the factory.
>
> >> He never failed
> >> to have a spare Budweiser
> >> and a smoke
> >> for the short ride to
> >> Shadowville Spinning Mill.
>
> >> We'd get there in time
> >> to stand around the parking lot
> >> and catch a few words
> >> with the crew.
>
> >> Then the whistle would blow
> >> and it was on your mark
> >> sail through 12 hours of dream
> >> in another land.
>
> >> Grabbed a cup of rotgut
> >> mill coffee
> >> and then
> >> in a determined stroll.
>
> >> Up to the Bobbin Winders
> >> and the upstairs Reels
> >> to catch everything up quick
> >> get the game going right.
>
> >> Then down the elevator
> >> to the Spinning room
> >> sweat shop
> >> a dozen ladies
> >> smoking and yelling conversations.
>
> >> Loud roaring
> >> antique seeming machinery
> >> all all points
> >> no escape from
> >> the chaos and thunder.
>
> >> Get it all caught up
> >> then down to the sub basement
> >> to pick up the prize left for me
> >> by Don
> >> my first shift doppelganger.
>
> >> Any time Don
> >> skipped out early
> >> and left everything
> >> off the mark, it was no problem.
>
> >> He'd leave me a joint
> >> at a certain spot
> >> in the sub basement.
>
> >> The basement was
> >> creepy enough
> >> but the sub basement
> >> seemed right out
> >> of a horror movie.
>
> >> Needless to say
> >> I'd keep my head down
> >> and would try to get out
> >> of the sub basement quickly.
>
> >> I had been distributing
> >> my broadsheets
> >> among my co-worker friends
> >> news of the day
> >> with a twist.
>
> >> They were entertained
> >> by my poetry
> >> and comic strips
> >> looking for themselves
> >> in the lines on paper.
>
> >> Pat, the personnel director
> >> called me in her office
> >> and put the kibosh
> >> on my broadsheet.
>
> >> My poetry and art zine
> >> had violated the strict
> >> "No Distribution" policy
> >> that no outside reading
> >> was permitted inside the mill gates.
>
> >> Since I had not been
> >> aware of this policy
> >> I apologized
> >> and kept the broadsides
> >> outside the gates from then on.
>
> >> Absolutely
> >> no foreknowledge
> >> of what was coming next
> >> taking one minute at a time.
>
> >> Getting from one minute
> >> to the next
> >> always in a hurry
> >> caught up in the time
> >> flashing by.
>
> >> Not even giving a damn
> >> or so I told myself
> >> by that point in time
> >> hoping for a speedy turnabout.
>
> >> I never could have foreseen
> >> twenty years later in 2005
> >> standing in a crowd
> >> watching the old mill in flames
>
> >> I was living
> >> in the worn out townhouse
> >> at 3226 River Avenue
> >> once part of a mill village.
>
> >> First week of the month
> >> was always annoying
> >> so much noise
> >> as I tried to sleep.
>
> >> All day hearing Mr. Newberry
> >> beating on the sides
> >> of the houses with his cane
> >> trying to collect his rent money.
>
> >> Alone
> >> in my upstairs office
> >> writing my manifesto
> >> in poetry and comic strips.
>
> >> Right side duplex
> >> next door to the Holden family.
> >> Two stories overlooking
> >> the dark green Chattahoochee.
>
> >> If I had the foresight
> >> I would know sitting and waiting
> >> was wasting precious time
> >> the cruelty of moments.
>
> >> Time can't be saved
> >> like in a bank.
> >> I thought I was biding my time
> >> while I was losing everything.
>
> >> As the North Highland
> >> sun blazed down.
> >> And as the cool white moon
> >> seemed to watch over it all.
>
> >> The big rooms
> >> and empty house
> >> suited my mood
> >> my lonesome and blue.
>
> >> Looking out my upstairs window
> >> dabbling on a canvas
> >> not a clue
> >> what was to come.
>
> >> Walked down to Forte's Pharmacy
> >> for a beer and some smokes
> >> the place is long gone now
> >> 35 years later.
>
> >> Back then it was
> >> the general store
> >> where the locals stood around
> >> shooting the breeze.
>
> >> Although relatively close
> >> the walk was winding
> >> to get around
> >> the far side of the factory.
>
> >> Found a girl named Margo
> >> she lived
> >> a few doors down
> >> from my place.
>
> >> She said she liked my music
> >> but had thought Bob Dylan's song
> >> was The Clash
> >> but I found her naivete charming.
>
> >> Took her out and played the game
> >> but my heart
> >> just wasn't in it
> >> I never saw Margo again
> >> after that night.
>
> >> At that time all seemed lost
> >> just goes to show
> >> I'm not much of a fortune teller
> >> but kept hope alive.
>
> >> Many nights seemed like others
> >> so I trudged
> >> through the days
> >> wrote poetry
> >> through the night.
>
> >> Crossed my heart
> >> and looked forward
> >> to good luck
> >> and happy days again.
>
> >> No happy ending
> >> was expected
> >> in the foreseeable future
> >> just more of the same.
>
> >> -Will Dockery
>
> >> ------------------------------
> >> From the Shadowville Mythos poetry blog:
> >> https://shadowville-mythos.blogspot.com/2021/04/passage-through-ennui.html
>
>
> > Lovely, quite an epic poem.....!
> Thanks for reading and commenting.
>
> This poem is another based on true events.

Family Guy wrote:

> Zod wrote:
>> Will Dockery wrote:
>> > Family Guy wrote:
>> > > Will Dockery wrote:
>
>> > >> This poem is another based on true events.
>> From the Shadowville Mythos poetry blog:
>> https://shadowville-mythos.blogspot.com/2021/04/passage-through-ennui.html
>> > > You getting high?
>> > > That was shit.
>> > That's probably just your upper lip you smell, Dink.
>> >
>> > 🙂
>> Ha ha... from having his nose up Chad and Greg's ass..?
>>
>> Ha ha.

> Would you two Brokebum Mountain idiots just get a tent already and shut the hell up?

Like I said:

Homophobic much, Dink?

:)

Will Dockery wrote:
>>> General-Zod wrote:

>>>> Will Dockery wrote:

>>
>>>>>>>> Passage Through Ennui

>>>>>>>>> 35 years ago
>>>>>>>>> it was another
>>>>>>>>> long bitter Summer
>>>>>>>>> that dark humid July 1985.

>>>>>>>>> I was working
>>>>>>>>> the graveyard shift
>>>>>>>>> operating one of the service elevators
>>>>>>>>> at Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>>>>>>>>> Galatea and I
>>>>>>>>> had split up again
>>>>>>>>> earlier in the year
>>>>>>>>> after our explosive reunion
>>>>>>>>> in 1983.

>>>>>>>>> It ended quickly
>>>>>>>>> after a huge fight
>>>>>>>>> with her brother
>>>>>>>>> over an old score
>>>>>>>>> usually forgotten.

>>>>>>>>> I won the fight
>>>>>>>>> but actually lost.
>>>>>>>>> Tracy gave up
>>>>>>>>> and Galatea left with him.

>>>>>>>>> The year
>>>>>>>>> it all came apart
>>>>>>>>> seemingly permanent.
>>>>>>>>> Two years of good times
>>>>>>>>> ended in a moonshine rage. .

>>>>>>>>> All I could see was
>>>>>>>>> a shut down gloom.
>>>>>>>>> The only laughter I heard
>>>>>>>>> was down in the break room.

>>>>>>>>> The brown haze of factory air
>>>>>>>>> angry faced people
>>>>>>>>> and the music
>>>>>>>>> of metal machines.

>>>>>>>>> Working all night
>>>>>>>>> sleeping all day.
>>>>>>>>> Sipping coffee
>>>>>>>>> to chase the road aspirins.

>>>>>>>>> Sitting on the steps
>>>>>>>>> over by a giant fan.
>>>>>>>>> keeping up with my workers
>>>>>>>>> usually five ladies
>>>>>>>>> at the machines.

>>>>>>>>> If one of the ladies
>>>>>>>>> needed anything
>>>>>>>>> they'd just look my way
>>>>>>>>> and wave.

>>>>>>>>> Several times a night
>>>>>>>>> I'd make a buy and fly
>>>>>>>>> bringing back coffee for them
>>>>>>>>> on makeshift cardboard trays.

>>>>>>>>> Jotting down notes
>>>>>>>>> doodling narratives
>>>>>>>>> creating reality
>>>>>>>>> building Shadowville
>>>>>>>>> from the ground up.

>>>>>>>>> Riding my elevator
>>>>>>>>> up and down
>>>>>>>>> creating samizdat
>>>>>>>>> in the smoking booth.

>>>>>>>>> Down to the Reel room
>>>>>>>>> my elevator filled
>>>>>>>>> with empty racks
>>>>>>>>> to bring up the full ones
>>>>>>>>> for the ladies upstairs.

>>>>>>>>> All night
>>>>>>>>> keeping it rolling
>>>>>>>>> making it smooth
>>>>>>>>> for the ladies
>>>>>>>>> to make production.

>>>>>>>>> Finally to clock out
>>>>>>>>> as the sad whistle would blow
>>>>>>>>> we would stumble out the gate
>>>>>>>>> into the grey dawn.

>>>>>>>>> Some headed for breakfast
>>>>>>>>> and a beer
>>>>>>>>> while always I headed home
>>>>>>>>> for sleep
>>>>>>>>> as quickly as possible.

>>>>>>>>> Living at Mockingbird Court
>>>>>>>>> where I had shared a trailer
>>>>>>>>> with my friend Bob Whitman
>>>>>>>>> an Army vet turned factory worker.

>>>>>>>>> Bob worked downstairs
>>>>>>>>> at the Autoclave
>>>>>>>>> the machine that steamed chemicals
>>>>>>>>> into the yarn.

>>>>>>>>> Bob's sidekick Jim Berg
>>>>>>>>> ran the huge Dryers
>>>>>>>>> a super hot
>>>>>>>>> chemical steam bath area.

>>>>>>>>> Jim married
>>>>>>>>> my childhood friend Pamela
>>>>>>>>> and passed away too soon
>>>>>>>>> from a heart attack

>>>>>>>>> I'm not sure how workers
>>>>>>>>> down there
>>>>>>>>> survived the heat
>>>>>>>>> and harsh smell.

>>>>>>>>> Actually
>>>>>>>>> I noticed not so well
>>>>>>>>> as years went by
>>>>>>>>> several old friends
>>>>>>>>> still haunt me.

>>>>>>>>> There was a guy named Bill
>>>>>>>>> from Chicago
>>>>>>>>> found in the Dryer room
>>>>>>>>> coughing up blood from TB.

>>>>>>>>> Chip, another Autoclave man
>>>>>>>>> was found
>>>>>>>>> giggling in the warehouse
>>>>>>>>> up in the bales of fiber
>>>>>>>>> one line of meth too many.

>>>>>>>>> Little Rosell
>>>>>>>>> on the Reels downstairs
>>>>>>>>> hot little femme fatale
>>>>>>>>> who I would know better later.

>>>>>>>>> An unteresting lady
>>>>>>>>> in her Daisy Duke shorts
>>>>>>>>> and "Flashdance" shirt
>>>>>>>>> she was the supervisors' choice.

>>>>>>>>> Pipe smoking old Mr. Green
>>>>>>>>> found in a hallway
>>>>>>>>> died there of old age.

>>>>>>>>> The list goes on
>>>>>>>>> many who did not survive
>>>>>>>>> until the shut down day
>>>>>>>>> another poem for another day.

>>>>>>>>> At that time of the night
>>>>>>>>> with machines all running right
>>>>>>>>> many of us could wander
>>>>>>>>> have some coffee
>>>>>>>>> and get some fresh air.

>>>>>>>>> Bob was a good friend
>>>>>>>>> at the job
>>>>>>>>> quick with a joke
>>>>>>>>> or pass his pipe for a toke.

>>>>>>>>> Many smokers and drinkers
>>>>>>>>> would hang out
>>>>>>>>> on the porch
>>>>>>>>> outside the Autoclave room.

>>>>>>>>> When he heard
>>>>>>>>> of my latest domestic disaster
>>>>>>>>> Bob offered
>>>>>>>>> to rent me a room.

>>>>>>>>> In a rented room
>>>>>>>>> in Bob's trailer
>>>>>>>>> like a scene from The Odd Couple
>>>>>>>>> without the laughs.

>>>>>>>>> The bottom fell out
>>>>>>>>> we didn't get along
>>>>>>>>> outside of the job
>>>>>>>>> so I moved out
>>>>>>>>> to North Highland.

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>>> General-Zod wrote:

>>>>> Will Dockery wrote:

>>>
>>>>>>>>> Passage Through Ennui

>>>>>>>>>> 35 years ago
>>>>>>>>>> it was another
>>>>>>>>>> long bitter Summer
>>>>>>>>>> that dark humid July 1985.

>>>>>>>>>> I was working
>>>>>>>>>> the graveyard shift
>>>>>>>>>> operating one of the service elevators
>>>>>>>>>> at Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>>>>>>>>>> Galatea and I
>>>>>>>>>> had split up again
>>>>>>>>>> earlier in the year
>>>>>>>>>> after our explosive reunion
>>>>>>>>>> in 1983.

>>>>>>>>>> It ended quickly
>>>>>>>>>> after a huge fight
>>>>>>>>>> with her brother
>>>>>>>>>> over an old score
>>>>>>>>>> usually forgotten.

>>>>>>>>>> I won the fight
>>>>>>>>>> but actually lost.
>>>>>>>>>> Tracy gave up
>>>>>>>>>> and Galatea left with him.

>>>>>>>>>> The year
>>>>>>>>>> it all came apart
>>>>>>>>>> seemingly permanent.
>>>>>>>>>> Two years of good times
>>>>>>>>>> ended in a moonshine rage. .

>>>>>>>>>> All I could see was
>>>>>>>>>> a shut down gloom.
>>>>>>>>>> The only laughter I heard
>>>>>>>>>> was down in the break room.

>>>>>>>>>> The brown haze of factory air
>>>>>>>>>> angry faced people
>>>>>>>>>> and the music
>>>>>>>>>> of metal machines.

>>>>>>>>>> Working all night
>>>>>>>>>> sleeping all day.
>>>>>>>>>> Sipping coffee
>>>>>>>>>> to chase the road aspirins.

>>>>>>>>>> Sitting on the steps
>>>>>>>>>> over by a giant fan.
>>>>>>>>>> keeping up with my workers
>>>>>>>>>> usually five ladies
>>>>>>>>>> at the machines.

>>>>>>>>>> If one of the ladies
>>>>>>>>>> needed anything
>>>>>>>>>> they'd just look my way
>>>>>>>>>> and wave.

>>>>>>>>>> Several times a night
>>>>>>>>>> I'd make a buy and fly
>>>>>>>>>> bringing back coffee for them
>>>>>>>>>> on makeshift cardboard trays.

>>>>>>>>>> Jotting down notes
>>>>>>>>>> doodling narratives
>>>>>>>>>> creating reality
>>>>>>>>>> building Shadowville
>>>>>>>>>> from the ground up.

>>>>>>>>>> Riding my elevator
>>>>>>>>>> up and down
>>>>>>>>>> creating samizdat
>>>>>>>>>> in the smoking booth.

>>>>>>>>>> Down to the Reel room
>>>>>>>>>> my elevator filled
>>>>>>>>>> with empty racks
>>>>>>>>>> to bring up the full ones
>>>>>>>>>> for the ladies upstairs.

>>>>>>>>>> All night
>>>>>>>>>> keeping it rolling
>>>>>>>>>> making it smooth
>>>>>>>>>> for the ladies
>>>>>>>>>> to make production.

>>>>>>>>>> Finally to clock out
>>>>>>>>>> as the sad whistle would blow
>>>>>>>>>> we would stumble out the gate
>>>>>>>>>> into the grey dawn.

>>>>>>>>>> Some headed for breakfast
>>>>>>>>>> and a beer
>>>>>>>>>> while always I headed home
>>>>>>>>>> for sleep
>>>>>>>>>> as quickly as possible.

>>>>>>>>>> Living at Mockingbird Court
>>>>>>>>>> where I had shared a trailer
>>>>>>>>>> with my friend Bob Whitman
>>>>>>>>>> an Army vet turned factory worker.

>>>>>>>>>> Bob worked downstairs
>>>>>>>>>> at the Autoclave
>>>>>>>>>> the machine that steamed chemicals
>>>>>>>>>> into the yarn.

>>>>>>>>>> Bob's sidekick Jim Berg
>>>>>>>>>> ran the huge Dryers
>>>>>>>>>> a super hot
>>>>>>>>>> chemical steam bath area.

>>>>>>>>>> Jim married
>>>>>>>>>> my childhood friend Pamela
>>>>>>>>>> and passed away too soon
>>>>>>>>>> from a heart attack

>>>>>>>>>> I'm not sure how workers
>>>>>>>>>> down there
>>>>>>>>>> survived the heat
>>>>>>>>>> and harsh smell.

>>>>>>>>>> Actually
>>>>>>>>>> I noticed not so well
>>>>>>>>>> as years went by
>>>>>>>>>> several old friends
>>>>>>>>>> still haunt me.

>>>>>>>>>> There was a guy named Bill
>>>>>>>>>> from Chicago
>>>>>>>>>> found in the Dryer room
>>>>>>>>>> coughing up blood from TB.

>>>>>>>>>> Chip, another Autoclave man
>>>>>>>>>> was found
>>>>>>>>>> giggling in the warehouse
>>>>>>>>>> up in the bales of fiber
>>>>>>>>>> one line of meth too many.

>>>>>>>>>> Little Rosell
>>>>>>>>>> on the Reels downstairs
>>>>>>>>>> hot little femme fatale
>>>>>>>>>> who I would know better later.

>>>>>>>>>> An unteresting lady
>>>>>>>>>> in her Daisy Duke shorts
>>>>>>>>>> and "Flashdance" shirt
>>>>>>>>>> she was the supervisors' choice.

>>>>>>>>>> Pipe smoking old Mr. Green
>>>>>>>>>> found in a hallway
>>>>>>>>>> died there of old age.

>>>>>>>>>> The list goes on
>>>>>>>>>> many who did not survive
>>>>>>>>>> until the shut down day
>>>>>>>>>> another poem for another day.

>>>>>>>>>> At that time of the night
>>>>>>>>>> with machines all running right
>>>>>>>>>> many of us could wander
>>>>>>>>>> have some coffee
>>>>>>>>>> and get some fresh air.

>>>>>>>>>> Bob was a good friend
>>>>>>>>>> at the job
>>>>>>>>>> quick with a joke
>>>>>>>>>> or pass his pipe for a toke.

>>>>>>>>>> Many smokers and drinkers
>>>>>>>>>> would hang out
>>>>>>>>>> on the porch
>>>>>>>>>> outside the Autoclave room.

>>>>>>>>>> When he heard
>>>>>>>>>> of my latest domestic disaster
>>>>>>>>>> Bob offered
>>>>>>>>>> to rent me a room.

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Passage Through Ennui

>> 35 years ago
>> it was another
>> long bitter Summer
>> that dark humid July 1985.

>> I was working
>> the graveyard shift
>> operating one of the service elevators
>> at Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>> Galatea and I
>> had split up again
>> earlier in the year
>> after our explosive reunion
>> in 1983.

>> It ended quickly
>> after a huge fight
>> with her brother
>> over an old score
>> usually forgotten.

>> I won the fight
>> but actually lost.
>> Tracy gave up
>> and Galatea left with him.

>> The year
>> it all came apart
>> seemingly permanent.
>> Two years of good times
>> ended in a moonshine rage. .

>> All I could see was
>> a shut down gloom.
>> The only laughter I heard
>> was down in the break room.

>> The brown haze of factory air
>> angry faced people
>> and the music
>> of metal machines.

>> Working all night
>> sleeping all day.
>> Sipping coffee
>> to chase the road aspirins.

>> Sitting on the steps
>> over by a giant fan.
>> keeping up with my workers
>> usually five ladies
>> at the machines.

>> If one of the ladies
>> needed anything
>> they'd just look my way
>> and wave.

>> Several times a night
>> I'd make a buy and fly
>> bringing back coffee for them
>> on makeshift cardboard trays.

>> Jotting down notes
>> doodling narratives
>> creating reality
>> building Shadowville
>> from the ground up.

>> Riding my elevator
>> up and down
>> creating samizdat
>> in the smoking booth.

>> Down to the Reel room
>> my elevator filled
>> with empty racks
>> to bring up the full ones
>> for the ladies upstairs.

>> All night
>> keeping it rolling
>> making it smooth
>> for the ladies
>> to make production.

>> Finally to clock out
>> as the sad whistle would blow
>> we would stumble out the gate
>> into the grey dawn.

>> Some headed for breakfast
>> and a beer
>> while always I headed home
>> for sleep
>> as quickly as possible.

>> Living at Mockingbird Court
>> where I had shared a trailer
>> with my friend Bob Whitman
>> an Army vet turned factory worker.

>> Bob worked downstairs
>> at the Autoclave
>> the machine that steamed chemicals
>> into the yarn.

>> Bob's sidekick Jim Berg
>> ran the huge Dryers
>> a super hot
>> chemical steam bath area.

>> Jim married
>> my childhood friend Pamela
>> and passed away too soon
>> from a heart attack

>> I'm not sure how workers
>> down there
>> survived the heat
>> and harsh smell.

>> Actually
>> I noticed not so well
>> as years went by
>> several old friends
>> still haunt me.

>> There was a guy named Bill
>> from Chicago
>> found in the Dryer room
>> coughing up blood from TB.

>> Chip, another Autoclave man
>> was found
>> giggling in the warehouse
>> up in the bales of fiber
>> one line of meth too many.

>> Little Rosell
>> on the Reels downstairs
>> hot little femme fatale
>> who I would know better later.

>> An unteresting lady
>> in her Daisy Duke shorts
>> and "Flashdance" shirt
>> she was the supervisors' choice.

>> Pipe smoking old Mr. Green
>> found in a hallway
>> died there of old age.

>> The list goes on
>> many who did not survive
>> until the shut down day
>> another poem for another day.

>> At that time of the night
>> with machines all running right
>> many of us could wander
>> have some coffee
>> and get some fresh air.

>> Bob was a good friend
>> at the job
>> quick with a joke
>> or pass his pipe for a toke.

>> Many smokers and drinkers
>> would hang out
>> on the porch
>> outside the Autoclave room.

>> When he heard
>> of my latest domestic disaster
>> Bob offered
>> to rent me a room.

>> In a rented room
>> in Bob's trailer
>> like a scene from The Odd Couple
>> without the laughs.

>> The bottom fell out
>> we didn't get along
>> outside of the job
>> so I moved out
>> to North Highland.

>> I moved in
>> next door to the Holt family
>> old school mill folk
>> in the former mill village.

>> Don, Walter and Karen Holden
>> all worked at
>> Shadowville Spinning Mill
>> like their family before them.

>> Karen worked in the supply room
>> Walter ran the Autoclave in Plant One
>> Don covered my job
>> during the say shift.

>> For some reason
>> it was important to them
>> that they tell Mr. Newberry
>> that I was their cousin.

>> I never did figure that out
>> but it was cool with me.
>> I liked them all
>> they were down to Earth folks.

>> The day I moved in
>> I had my music playing loud
>> outside my window
>> was the river
>> and then Alabama.

>> I would never have imagined
>> how that area would look now
>> with the row of houses demolished
>> and with the Riverwalk below.

>> I was two floors up
>> but I still felt
>> like a mole
>> like a subterranean.

>> Wake up
>> it was Monday
>> I could hear Billy Teakson
>> blowing his horn in his pickup truck
>> down below.

>> Billy was an old school
>> Card and Blending room man
>> never late
>> sick or well he was on the job.

>> Slither down the stairs
>> so far so good
>> jump in and ride on
>> the the alternate universe
>> the factory.

>> He never failed
>> to have a spare Budweiser
>> and a smoke
>> for the short ride to
>> Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>> We'd get there in time
>> to stand around the parking lot
>> and catch a few words
>> with the crew.

>> Then the whistle would blow
>> and it was on your mark
>> sail through 12 hours of dream
>> in another land.

>> Grabbed a cup of rotgut
>> mill coffee
>> and then
>> in a determined stroll.

>> Up to the Bobbin Winders
>> and the upstairs Reels
>> to catch everything up quick
>> get the game going right.

>> Then down the elevator
>> to the Spinning room
>> sweat shop
>> a dozen ladies
>> smoking and yelling conversations.

>> Loud roaring
>> antique seeming machinery
>> all all points
>> no escape from
>> the chaos and thunder.

>> Get it all caught up
>> then down to the sub basement
>> to pick up the prize left for me
>> by Don
>> my first shift doppelganger.

>> Any time Don
>> skipped out early
>> and left everything
>> off the mark, it was no problem.

>> He'd leave me a joint
>> at a certain spot
>> in the sub basement.

>> The basement was
>> creepy enough
>> but the sub basement
>> seemed right out
>> of a horror movie.

>> Needless to say
>> I'd keep my head down
>> and would try to get out
>> of the sub basement quickly.

>> I had been distributing
>> my broadsheets
>> among my co-worker friends
>> news of the day
>> with a twist.

>> They were entertained
>> by my poetry
>> and comic strips
>> looking for themselves
>> in the lines on paper.

>> Pat, the personnel director
>> called me in her office
>> and put the kibosh
>> on my broadsheet.

>> My poetry and art zine
>> had violated the strict
>> "No Distribution" policy
>> that no outside reading
>> was permitted inside the mill gates.

>> Since I had not been
>> aware of this policy
>> I apologized
>> and kept the broadsides
>> outside the gates from then on.

Will Dockery wrote:
>
> Passage Through Ennui

> 35 years ago
> it was another
> long bitter Summer
> that dark humid July 1985.

> I was working
> the graveyard shift
> operating one of the service elevators
> at Shadowville Spinning Mill.

> Galatea and I
> had split up again
> earlier in the year
> after our explosive reunion
> in 1983.

> It ended quickly
> after a huge fight
> with her brother
> over an old score
> usually forgotten.

> I won the fight
> but actually lost.
> Tracy gave up
> and Galatea left with him.

> The year
> it all came apart
> seemingly permanent.
> Two years of good times
> ended in a moonshine rage. .

> All I could see was
> a shut down gloom.
> The only laughter I heard
> was down in the break room.

> The brown haze of factory air
> angry faced people
> and the music
> of metal machines.

> Working all night
> sleeping all day.
> Sipping coffee
> to chase the road aspirins.

> Sitting on the steps
> over by a giant fan.
> keeping up with my workers
> usually five ladies
> at the machines.

> If one of the ladies
> needed anything
> they'd just look my way
> and wave.

> Several times a night
> I'd make a buy and fly
> bringing back coffee for them
> on makeshift cardboard trays.

> Jotting down notes
> doodling narratives
> creating reality
> building Shadowville
> from the ground up.

> Riding my elevator
> up and down
> creating samizdat
> in the smoking booth.

> Down to the Reel room
> my elevator filled
> with empty racks
> to bring up the full ones
> for the ladies upstairs.

> All night
> keeping it rolling
> making it smooth
> for the ladies
> to make production.

> Finally to clock out
> as the sad whistle would blow
> we would stumble out the gate
> into the grey dawn.

> Some headed for breakfast
> and a beer
> while always I headed home
> for sleep
> as quickly as possible.

> Living at Mockingbird Court
> where I had shared a trailer
> with my friend Bob Whitman
> an Army vet turned factory worker.

> Bob worked downstairs
> at the Autoclave
> the machine that steamed chemicals
> into the yarn.

> Bob's sidekick Jim Berg
> ran the huge Dryers
> a super hot
> chemical steam bath area.

> Jim married
> my childhood friend Pamela
> and passed away too soon
> from a heart attack

> I'm not sure how workers
> down there
> survived the heat
> and harsh smell.

> Actually
> I noticed not so well
> as years went by
> several old friends
> still haunt me.

> There was a guy named Bill
> from Chicago
> found in the Dryer room
> coughing up blood from TB.

> Chip, another Autoclave man
> was found
> giggling in the warehouse
> up in the bales of fiber
> one line of meth too many.

> Little Rosell
> on the Reels downstairs
> hot little femme fatale
> who I would know better later.

> An unteresting lady
> in her Daisy Duke shorts
> and "Flashdance" shirt
> she was the supervisors' choice.

> Pipe smoking old Mr. Green
> found in a hallway
> died there of old age.

> The list goes on
> many who did not survive
> until the shut down day
> another poem for another day.

> At that time of the night
> with machines all running right
> many of us could wander
> have some coffee
> and get some fresh air.

> Bob was a good friend
> at the job
> quick with a joke
> or pass his pipe for a toke.

> Many smokers and drinkers
> would hang out
> on the porch
> outside the Autoclave room.

> When he heard
> of my latest domestic disaster
> Bob offered
> to rent me a room.

> In a rented room
> in Bob's trailer
> like a scene from The Odd Couple
> without the laughs.

> The bottom fell out
> we didn't get along
> outside of the job
> so I moved out
> to North Highland.

> I moved in
> next door to the Holt family
> old school mill folk
> in the former mill village.

> Don, Walter and Karen Holden
> all worked at
> Shadowville Spinning Mill
> like their family before them.

> Karen worked in the supply room
> Walter ran the Autoclave in Plant One
> Don covered my job
> during the say shift.

> For some reason
> it was important to them
> that they tell Mr. Newberry
> that I was their cousin.

> I never did figure that out
> but it was cool with me.
> I liked them all
> they were down to Earth folks.

> The day I moved in
> I had my music playing loud
> outside my window
> was the river
> and then Alabama.

> I would never have imagined
> how that area would look now
> with the row of houses demolished
> and with the Riverwalk below.

> I was two floors up
> but I still felt
> like a mole
> like a subterranean.

> Wake up
> it was Monday
> I could hear Billy Teakson
> blowing his horn in his pickup truck
> down below.

> Billy was an old school
> Card and Blending room man
> never late
> sick or well he was on the job.

> Slither down the stairs
> so far so good
> jump in and ride on
> the the alternate universe
> the factory.

> He never failed
> to have a spare Budweiser
> and a smoke
> for the short ride to
> Shadowville Spinning Mill.

> We'd get there in time
> to stand around the parking lot
> and catch a few words
> with the crew.

> Then the whistle would blow
> and it was on your mark
> sail through 12 hours of dream
> in another land.

> Grabbed a cup of rotgut
> mill coffee
> and then
> in a determined stroll.

> Up to the Bobbin Winders
> and the upstairs Reels
> to catch everything up quick
> get the game going right.

> Then down the elevator
> to the Spinning room
> sweat shop
> a dozen ladies
> smoking and yelling conversations.

> Loud roaring
> antique seeming machinery
> all all points
> no escape from
> the chaos and thunder.

> Get it all caught up
> then down to the sub basement
> to pick up the prize left for me
> by Don
> my first shift doppelganger.

> Any time Don
> skipped out early
> and left everything
> off the mark, it was no problem.

> He'd leave me a joint
> at a certain spot
> in the sub basement.

> The basement was
> creepy enough
> but the sub basement
> seemed right out
> of a horror movie.

> Needless to say
> I'd keep my head down
> and would try to get out
> of the sub basement quickly.

> I had been distributing
> my broadsheets
> among my co-worker friends
> news of the day
> with a twist.

> They were entertained
> by my poetry
> and comic strips
> looking for themselves
> in the lines on paper.

> Pat, the personnel director
> called me in her office
> and put the kibosh
> on my broadsheet.

> My poetry and art zine
> had violated the strict
> "No Distribution" policy
> that no outside reading
> was permitted inside the mill gates.

> Since I had not been
> aware of this policy
> I apologized
> and kept the broadsides
> outside the gates from then on.

> Absolutely
> no foreknowledge
> of what was coming next
> taking one minute at a time.

> Getting from one minute
> to the next
> always in a hurry
> caught up in the time
> flashing by.

> Not even giving a damn
> or so I told myself
> by that point in time
> hoping for a speedy turnabout.

> I never could have foreseen
> twenty years later in 2005
> standing in a crowd
> watching the old mill in flames

> I was living
> in the worn out townhouse
> at 3226 River Avenue
> once part of a mill village.

> First week of the month
> was always annoying
> so much noise
> as I tried to sleep.

> All day hearing Mr. Newberry
> beating on the sides
> of the houses with his cane
> trying to collect his rent money.

> Alone
> in my upstairs office
> writing my manifesto
> in poetry and comic strips.

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Passage Through Ennui

>> 35 years ago
>> it was another
>> long bitter Summer
>> that dark humid July 1985.

>> I was working
>> the graveyard shift
>> operating one of the service elevators
>> at Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>> Galatea and I
>> had split up again
>> earlier in the year
>> after our explosive reunion
>> in 1983.

>> It ended quickly
>> after a huge fight
>> with her brother
>> over an old score
>> usually forgotten.

>> I won the fight
>> but actually lost.
>> Tracy gave up
>> and Galatea left with him.

>> The year
>> it all came apart
>> seemingly permanent.
>> Two years of good times
>> ended in a moonshine rage. .

>> All I could see was
>> a shut down gloom.
>> The only laughter I heard
>> was down in the break room.

>> The brown haze of factory air
>> angry faced people
>> and the music
>> of metal machines.

>> Working all night
>> sleeping all day.
>> Sipping coffee
>> to chase the road aspirins.

>> Sitting on the steps
>> over by a giant fan.
>> keeping up with my workers
>> usually five ladies
>> at the machines.

>> If one of the ladies
>> needed anything
>> they'd just look my way
>> and wave.

>> Several times a night
>> I'd make a buy and fly
>> bringing back coffee for them
>> on makeshift cardboard trays.

>> Jotting down notes
>> doodling narratives
>> creating reality
>> building Shadowville
>> from the ground up.

>> Riding my elevator
>> up and down
>> creating samizdat
>> in the smoking booth.

>> Down to the Reel room
>> my elevator filled
>> with empty racks
>> to bring up the full ones
>> for the ladies upstairs.

>> All night
>> keeping it rolling
>> making it smooth
>> for the ladies
>> to make production.

>> Finally to clock out
>> as the sad whistle would blow
>> we would stumble out the gate
>> into the grey dawn.

>> Some headed for breakfast
>> and a beer
>> while always I headed home
>> for sleep
>> as quickly as possible.

>> Living at Mockingbird Court
>> where I had shared a trailer
>> with my friend Bob Whitman
>> an Army vet turned factory worker.

>> Bob worked downstairs
>> at the Autoclave
>> the machine that steamed chemicals
>> into the yarn.

>> Bob's sidekick Jim Berg
>> ran the huge Dryers
>> a super hot
>> chemical steam bath area.

>> Jim married
>> my childhood friend Pamela
>> and passed away too soon
>> from a heart attack

>> I'm not sure how workers
>> down there
>> survived the heat
>> and harsh smell.

>> Actually
>> I noticed not so well
>> as years went by
>> several old friends
>> still haunt me.

>> There was a guy named Bill
>> from Chicago
>> found in the Dryer room
>> coughing up blood from TB.

>> Chip, another Autoclave man
>> was found
>> giggling in the warehouse
>> up in the bales of fiber
>> one line of meth too many.

>> Little Rosell
>> on the Reels downstairs
>> hot little femme fatale
>> who I would know better later.

>> An unteresting lady
>> in her Daisy Duke shorts
>> and "Flashdance" shirt
>> she was the supervisors' choice.

>> Pipe smoking old Mr. Green
>> found in a hallway
>> died there of old age.

>> The list goes on
>> many who did not survive
>> until the shut down day
>> another poem for another day.

>> At that time of the night
>> with machines all running right
>> many of us could wander
>> have some coffee
>> and get some fresh air.

>> Bob was a good friend
>> at the job
>> quick with a joke
>> or pass his pipe for a toke.

>> Many smokers and drinkers
>> would hang out
>> on the porch
>> outside the Autoclave room.

>> When he heard
>> of my latest domestic disaster
>> Bob offered
>> to rent me a room.

>> In a rented room
>> in Bob's trailer
>> like a scene from The Odd Couple
>> without the laughs.

>> The bottom fell out
>> we didn't get along
>> outside of the job
>> so I moved out
>> to North Highland.

>> I moved in
>> next door to the Holt family
>> old school mill folk
>> in the former mill village.

>> Don, Walter and Karen Holden
>> all worked at
>> Shadowville Spinning Mill
>> like their family before them.

>> Karen worked in the supply room
>> Walter ran the Autoclave in Plant One
>> Don covered my job
>> during the say shift.

>> For some reason
>> it was important to them
>> that they tell Mr. Newberry
>> that I was their cousin.

>> I never did figure that out
>> but it was cool with me.
>> I liked them all
>> they were down to Earth folks.

>> The day I moved in
>> I had my music playing loud
>> outside my window
>> was the river
>> and then Alabama.

>> I would never have imagined
>> how that area would look now
>> with the row of houses demolished
>> and with the Riverwalk below.

>> I was two floors up
>> but I still felt
>> like a mole
>> like a subterranean.

>> Wake up
>> it was Monday
>> I could hear Billy Teakson
>> blowing his horn in his pickup truck
>> down below.

>> Billy was an old school
>> Card and Blending room man
>> never late
>> sick or well he was on the job.

>> Slither down the stairs
>> so far so good
>> jump in and ride on
>> the the alternate universe
>> the factory.

>> He never failed
>> to have a spare Budweiser
>> and a smoke
>> for the short ride to
>> Shadowville Spinning Mill.

>> We'd get there in time
>> to stand around the parking lot
>> and catch a few words
>> with the crew.

>> Then the whistle would blow
>> and it was on your mark
>> sail through 12 hours of dream
>> in another land.

>> Grabbed a cup of rotgut
>> mill coffee
>> and then
>> in a determined stroll.

>> Up to the Bobbin Winders
>> and the upstairs Reels
>> to catch everything up quick
>> get the game going right.

>> Then down the elevator
>> to the Spinning room
>> sweat shop
>> a dozen ladies
>> smoking and yelling conversations.

>> Loud roaring
>> antique seeming machinery
>> all all points
>> no escape from
>> the chaos and thunder.

>> Get it all caught up
>> then down to the sub basement
>> to pick up the prize left for me
>> by Don
>> my first shift doppelganger.

>> Any time Don
>> skipped out early
>> and left everything
>> off the mark, it was no problem.

>> He'd leave me a joint
>> at a certain spot
>> in the sub basement.

>> The basement was
>> creepy enough
>> but the sub basement
>> seemed right out
>> of a horror movie.

>> Needless to say
>> I'd keep my head down
>> and would try to get out
>> of the sub basement quickly.

>> I had been distributing
>> my broadsheets
>> among my co-worker friends
>> news of the day
>> with a twist.

>> They were entertained
>> by my poetry
>> and comic strips
>> looking for themselves
>> in the lines on paper.