the supervisor brings
the new hire back
to the chrome shop
where Smilin Mike
and I play Morlocks
who have yet to taste
the Eloi flesh
after ten years
in the darkness

the new hire isn’t
the sacrifice
we’re yearning for

did you guys
request the oldest,
wormiest, most
broken down
sliver of a man
for the most
labor intensive
job in the factory?
I ask the supervisor

we called the
temp agency
this is what they sent

the supervisor nods
at the new hire
and returns to his office

how old are you, dude?

forty-nine, he says

goddam, is Wal-Mart
not hiring door greeters
anymore?

until last week
I useta drive a big rig

well, this is kinda
like truck driving
but instead of
sitting in a cab
listening to the radio
you gotta stand on
your feet twelve hours
a day, lifting your
body weight in steel

he shrugs
I need a paycheck
got three kids to support

support through what?
college?

he doesn’t smile
he never smiles

they’re 8,7 and 5
I’ll be lucky to be here
when they get college age

you won’t be here
count on that
you see those
vats of chrome
over there?
that shit gives
you cancer just
looking at it

he glances at the
chrome tanks and
you can see him
figuring the equation

hourly wage plus
the promise of benefits
blue cross/blue shield
2% match on 401k
multiplied by the
demands of a
twelve hour shift
subtracted by
management’s contempt
divided by the rate of
physical deterioration
figured on a
sliding scale
which takes in account
medical history
heart disease
cancer, diabetes
the strength of one’s spine

the solution
to the equation
is etched in his face
as he strains against
the part too heavy
to lift for
a paycheck too weak
to cover

Karl Koweski