New Poem about the closing of Pro Corporation
Pro Corporation
Today I felt
the death throes
of an era
wash over me
in rivulets of sorrow
even as the rain
washed streams
through the roof
into plastic
injection molded buckets
lots of her
were tagged and auctioned
machinery dismantled
fluids drained and trucked away
gone are the days
of 24/7
the hey-day
of the Pro-
Phy-Lac-tic
Brush Company
and, as language matured,
"The Pro Corporation"
(a division of Vistron)
there is no more cafeteria
no nurse's station
no pin with three rubies
for 5 years seniority
on this day
sorting through files
boxing up paperwork
the bidding began
the buyers poked
and peered into
every private nook
they could
there I stood
unable to voice
this heavy sadness
as she passed
as if I cast a spell
by evoking
her history
she whispered
"Remember me"
ltv
4/25/07
Today I felt
the death throes
of an era
wash over me
in rivulets of sorrow
even as the rain
washed streams
through the roof
into plastic
injection molded buckets
lots of her
were tagged and auctioned
machinery dismantled
fluids drained and trucked away
gone are the days
of 24/7
the hey-day
of the Pro-
Phy-Lac-tic
Brush Company
and, as language matured,
"The Pro Corporation"
(a division of Vistron)
there is no more cafeteria
no nurse's station
no pin with three rubies
for 5 years seniority
on this day
sorting through files
boxing up paperwork
the bidding began
the buyers poked
and peered into
every private nook
they could
there I stood
unable to voice
this heavy sadness
as she passed
as if I cast a spell
by evoking
her history
she whispered
"Remember me"
ltv
4/25/07
posted by LTV at
4/25/2007 09:34:00 PM
2 Comments:
hi kitty,
your pro poem is like the titanic sinking. hope you can jump off and not get sucked into the vortex. I met someone recently while doing burn permit inspections who had worked there for 56 years. let me repeat that, FIFTY-SIX YEARS! she lives on florence rd, across the river and up the hill. I can't remember her name right now, but she told me a great story about the old noontime whistle. how it would blow at noon to release the workers for lunch, and then again at five minutes to one to tell them to get back to work. apparently, in those days most of the workers lived in florence within walking distance of the plant. apparently there were over 1500 of them at one point. many of my dad's friends worked there their whole lives and never owned a car! ah the good old days!
hugs,
tommy
By
tommy twilite, at Fri Apr 27, 09:07:00 AM EST
I feel you sweetie, and the heartache of letting go. Just remember while this door is closing, another somewhere is opening just for you.
I'm here for you...with hugs.
By
Anonymous, at Sat Apr 28, 10:17:00 PM EST
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