Daydream Interlude #1
by Andy Roebum
There was a factory behind the train station
That reminded me of the emptiness of
Cocaine sunrises and the blank stares of hospital visits
Under normal circumstances I would have walked on
But I halted like a curious chin stroke
& instead climbed through the transom above the door
And across the vast space of warship grey-
Over the beaten wood tables speckled in sweat
And in certain spots blood and mustards
I saw the fruit of past labors- like a cemetery
Of bad ideas and ambitious decisions
I saw tables of napkins rings and piles of rakes
Under the metal staircase, a box of handkerchiefs
An antiquated classic, & just outside management’s office
Platinum cigarette cases and a staff cut notice
“Acme Inc., with its vested interests in mind, will close shop at 5,
Please empty your lockers and pick up your wages - Mgmt”
I thought of grandfathers and past lives, I thought
About cold water tenements and milk bottles- bone dry
I thought about aeroplanes and radio programs
And the emptiness of now crowded boroughs
But those thoughts cleared in a flash, when my eyes caught a glimpse
Of tragic marble birds, that sat neatly in rows under 3 tables in the
South end of the factory where the Sun broke through the cracked
Windows plastered with grey paint 15 feet above the work stations
I picked up the marble bird - stroking the cold curves with
My spoiled hands thinking of that week in Florence
Like the morning I awoke before everyone and walking the streets
Across the morning chill of cobbled brick- across the eyes of my gladness.
And above, the most incredible Sun rising over the clay rooftops and
The distant bells of a glorious dawn.
I placed two marble birds in my coat and walked the long way home.
