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I ASKED the Mayor of Gary about the 12-hour day and the 7-day week.
And the Mayor of Gary answered more workmen steal time on the job in Gary than any other place in the United States.
"Go into the plants and you will see men sitting around doing nothing-machinery does everything," said the Mayor of Gary when I asked him about the 12-hour day and the 7-day week.
And he wore cool cream pants, the Mayor of Gary, and white shoes, and a barber had fixed him up with a shampoo and a shave and he was easy and imperturbable though the government weather bureau thermometer said 96 and children were soaking their heads at bubbling fountains on the street corners.
And I said good-by to the Mayor of Gary and I went out from the city hall and turned the corner into Broadway.
And I saw workmen wearing leather shoes scruffed with fire and cinders, and pitted with little holes from running molten steel,
And some had bunches of specialized muscles around their shoulder blades hard as pig iron, muscles of their fore-arms were sheet steel and they looked to me like men who had been somewhere.Gary, Indiana, 1915.
Sarah Kunz Nov 2016
Society, the nectarous drenched **** of gregarious giving.
Or so we think..
One must be diligent to not consume to the point of overweening upon her intoxicating milk.
"You can be anything" she coos delicately stroking your forehead.
My bleary scruffed state prevents me from feeling her venomous *****.
I am rendered limp set agog by the hypnagogic melody of society.
Then there is you...
Your Wild renegade eyes pry me from my cemented prison.
Your Voltaic energy seeped in the poetry that coats my marrow and enamel, the substance of my soul.
Such beauty estranged from society? How can that be?
Was this matronly epicenter all farce and rigamarole?
I clamor in search for those eyes to appease my pain.
I search in vain..
until I face the mirror.
Those eyes belong to me, the remedy to society is the awakening of yourself, the claiming of your poetry.
Richard Riddle Feb 2015
(1) "Gimme" cap(billed cap with a manufacturers name on it-
        found at truck stops" everywhere.)
(1) Pair of bibbed, denim, overalls (with enough pockets to carry who knows what!)
(1) Folding Buck Knife with 3" razor-sharp blade
(1) Pair of scruffed boots(with steel toe - in event the knife is dropped)
(1) Batch(more than three) hardwood tree limbs(pre-trimmed)18" long
(1) Park Bench(seats at least three)-Strategically placed in front of the
      county courthouse, or other municipal facility
(1) Bottomless bag of stories, tales, yarns, opinions, etc.

Blend together, stir frequently, START WHITTL'N! ENJOY the DAY!!
(Weather is not a factor)

copyright: richard riddle-February 09, 2015
I posted this on Facebook, along with a photo of the retirement resort where I would like to move to, if I ever retire.
Paris Raine May 2015
I wonder when these shoes will wear?
If they'll ever spare another tear,
All scruffed and gruffed,
All wrinkled and crow'd,
A pair for a no show.

I wonder when this jacket will cease
to respire any fibre?
When the hem will begin to stem
an elongated thread,
The buttons express of remorse,
Why must they fall short?

I wonder when these trousers
will fail to hold my waist?
No matter to extensions or nostalgic reconsiderations,
No belt will spare thee,
or brace to contain me.

I wonder when these fingers
will cease to play?
All the joints never to cease with pain,
Wave away the cartilage and ivory keys,
Never to be pleased with the hollow sound.

I wonder when these ears
will turn hollow?
Through and out, not even a shout
Just regress into silent
remoteness.

I wonder when this love will fade?
Like the shoes and the clothes,
my fingers and musical repose,
But I'm not afraid,
For I know these will fade.

All is made to evaporate
apart from
the love that hides from sight
but burns in glorious light

Through the portals of our mind
that same light I see
time after time,
lit within your eyes.

— The End —