It’s Sunday and today’s poem by The Bard of Murdock relates to a story coming out of the wasteland otherwise known as Detroit. He originally published this poem on Saturday, August 25, 2012. Please be sure to read the article linked by the Bard before reading the poem, [My apologies: WordPress is putting line spaces where they don’t belong. ]
Article link: No Horses, But Detroit Water Department Employs ‘Horseshoe
When I report to work each morn
To keep the horses shod and shorn,
I check to see if they have bought
A single colt, but they have not.
And so I go to visit Gramps,
Whose job it is to light the lamps,
And both of us review the list
To verify that none exist.
By then we need a little break
To keep us fresh and wide awake,
As per the contract which affords
Our daily wage and just rewards.
For most of our remaining shift,
We talk to Fred who runs the lift
Inside the long abandoned works,
And flirt with idle typing clerks.
And soon thereafter, one by one,
We head for home, our labor done,
To rest while we await the call
To gather at the union hall.
The union boss will give a talk,
From six ’til nine or ten o’clock,
On how to help expand the staff
And benefits, on our behalf.