Coral Hull: Poetry: Broken Land: 5 Days In Bre: Day Two/ VII. The Bre Roo Works/ 3. 'The Boys Giving Me A Hard Time.'

I MACKENZIE KNIGHT I A CHILD OF WRATH A GOD OF LOVE I FALLEN ANGELS EXPOSED I

CORAL HULL: BROKEN LAND: 5 DAYS IN BRE
Day Two

I. THE BRE ROO WORKS

3. 'The Boys Giving Me A Hard Time.'

The manager's son's voice echoed through the factory.
He said, "You fellas have stopped work since we came in."
They smiled at me all greasy lipped,
blood all over them.
"We're only 'avin' a perve boss, 'AVIN' A PERVE AT 'ER ..."
With glazed over eyes, dilated pupils & shining wrists
wrapped up in blood stained bandages.
The stink of blood making me sick.
I can handle it.
My face as straight as a spade, resting against a wall outside.
I felt like a desert blowing through
when the boss chastised the workers for slowing down.
I felt like a kangaroo, when they whistled & called out
wiping their hands, against the blooded up aprons.
I was unaffected by them.
Undecapitated, non-disemboweled.
They hadn't ripped my heart out
or broken my ribs & spine.
They hadn't cut me open, or stuck their hands inside.
Or crushed my spirit into the ground, as bone or glass.
Or strung me up, or sold me to the petfood industry.
Or slapped me down, or taken my young.
They only stood leering at me.
Checking out my movements through the factory.
Opening up my clothes & touching up my body
with limited imaginations.
Stale yellow smiles of nicotine & eye whites shining
out like blood.
I remained vast, determined, unaffected inside
& to the manager's son, cold & sweet.

    

This website is part of my personal testimony that has been guided by The Holy Spirit and written in Jesus' name.

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