Free-verse poem about the economic situation as viewed by many blue-collar young adults. |
My family had a proud tradition of blue-collar careers. My pa, my uncles, and my grandpa before them, all worked their whole lives in the pipe-fabricating mill. It was hard, hot, dirty work that sent you home with salt rings staining your blue shirt. It was real man’s work. The mill got shut down years ago, those jobs gone overseas. Gone overseas. Gone. My ma and her sisters spent their lives sewing garments in the textile mill … until those jobs followed Pa’s overseas. Now Ma cashiers at Wal-Mart, part-time, no benefits. Part-time. No benefits. Money is tight these days. Pa does what he can, odd jobs and such. Nobody wants to hire a sixty-year-old man without college training. Pa resents having Ma be the main breadwinner. My sisters, brothers, and I don’t see much in the way of a future unless we can get a college degree and do office work of some sort. There ain’t no manly jobs left in this community for me. Where am I gonna get money for college? I ain’t no sports star. The Army and fighting in whatever Middle Eastern war we got looks like my ticket out of here. That or move overseas for a job! Please check out my ten books: http://www.amazon.com/Jr.-Harry-E.-Gilleland/e/B004SVLY02/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0 |