Poetry at the Machine Shop
I handed him poetry
at the machine shop
where he’d band-sawed
my poster tube
that September.
Relief, when he stilled
in the screen-light—
I knew he knew
what we had meant
to me.
I handed him poetry
at the machine shop
where he’d band-sawed
my poster tube
that September.
Relief, when he stilled
in the screen-light—
I knew he knew
what we had meant
to me.