Labor Poem #7
        (Royal Pacific Fisheries ii)

His trailer up. The salt air and damp, the old
barge moored. Rust-colored paint, coils. John the foreman,
from his time, styrofoam. The sheds, the hull, paint
everything metal. My cup of red. Paint
against the salt, corrosive. Coils of rope or
hose, the days between. A story from his time
in the navy, his trailer up, the instant
coffee in styrofoam. Rope or hose, you
stretch out long. Cooling. Everything metal,
rust-colored. And damp, my cup of red tea
cooling. Stretch it out, twist as you throw each
coil down. Up on the beach, the barge moored, the days
between. Corrosive. The paint against. The instant
in styrofoam. You twist, throw each coil down.

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Copyright © 2015 Dan Alter All rights reserved
from Fourteen Hills
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission