Sweat Flying. By Ian Copestick

I was just thinking of when I

Worked in a salt packing plant.
My God ! That was hard work !
Whichever sadistic bastard had
Set the speed of the machinery
Had it set that only by rushing
Around and working flat out
Could you keep up with it.

If you blew your nose, or had to
Scratch your balls then there
Was a backlog of boxes of
Salt built up on the conveyer
Belt from Hell. Then you would
Have to try to work, sweat flying,
Even faster than you thought
You possibly could to catch up,
So you could go back to your
Usual flat out rate.

On top of that, it was 12 hour
Shifts, 5 nights a week. So, I
Was raking in the cash with my
60 hour weeks. The problem
Was that on my days off I was
Too tired to do anything but
Sleep.

I don't remember what caused
Me to lose that job, either I
Was laid off, fired or I quit.
I seriously can't recall, if you've
Had as many jobs as I have
Sometimes you just forget.
Anyway, it's fair to say that I
Wasn't exactly heartbroken to
See the back of it.
Until I got the next shit job.

Ian Lewis Copestick is a 46 year old writer (I prefer that term to poet ) from Stoke on Trent, England. I spend most of my life sitting,  thinking then sometimes writing. I have been published in Anti Heroin Chic, the Dope Fiend Daily, Outlaw Poetry, Synchronized Chaos, the Rye Whiskey Review, Medusa's Kitchen and Horror Sleaze Trash.