Wednesday, 06 March 2024 21:26

We Are the Workers

Written by
in Poetry
We Are the Workers

We Are The Workers

by Alan McGuire, with image above by Ehsan Ganji

You find new muscles everyday.
Emotions stay dead in place.
We’re productive yet recyclable.
We are the workers.

You can’t remember your holidays.
The clouds are steel grey.
The bus is late, but you don’t care.
We’re productive yet recyclable.

Internet banking with four codes,
You still have a smashed phone scree. Inbox full.
Change your password and dreams please.
We are the workers.

I open up my wallet, and finger too few notes,
reckon playschool fees and another pair of cheap trainers;
Wish I hadn’t booked that holiday.
We’re productive yet recyclable.

Endless eight hours of my soul
stabbing itself with a computer.
My neck aches. Are my shoes too small?
We are the workers.

My jellied brain throbs
From one-player mind games of precarity.
We’re productive yet recyclable.
We are all the workers.

Read 355 times Last modified on Wednesday, 20 March 2024 13:38
Alan McGuire

Alan McGuire is a former mental health nurse from Swindon. He currently lives in Madrid teaching English.