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 again, it is part of an epic of sorts.