The Production Line
The flywheel wobbles,
the fan belt squeals,
the gaps between parts
gets tighter and tighter.
But, we must maintain
the illusion of efficiency,
as a species, as a man,
just more grim-faced now
having learned what
we’ve learned, knowing
what we all know to be true,
at what cost this life is,
our shift coming to an end,
our quota still unmet.
6 thoughts on "The Production Line"
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Nice extended metaphor!
Wow! It’s like THE ADDING MACHINE meets THE ICEMAN COMETH. You go, Bill.
Nice turn. The message is also found in the fourteen words found at ends of lines. Well done.
I like philosopher Bill!
powerful metaphor that makes me rethink my way of life
Love the internal unity of this poem and its collective voice here-we are all complicit.