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.

>>>>>>>>> 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.

>>>>>> Excellent rendition of a moment in time.....!

>>>>> Good morning, thanks again.

>>>> Right on....!

>>> Hello again, my friend.

>> Hi there....

> Good evening, Zod.

> 🙂

One of your all-time Hall of Fame productions...!