Jimmy the Human

by on August 5, 2016 :: 0 comments

photo "Factory-made Sunset" (above) by Tyler Malone aka The Second Shooter

Jimmy the human. Well, vaguely human.

It’s been a long thirty years on the factory floor,

A robotic existence, but you’ve made a feed

For yourself and the factory fodder you and your wife

Spawned at intervals:

Funny how their conception times to

Celebrations of promotion and pay rises.

Like hey baby, I’m financial: let’s procreate!


Lest the mewling offspring howl in protest

At the jail term…

Shackled from birth to the machine

And worked to death

Near death

So fucked up!

Acres and acres of bricks and wire mesh, Halon globes burning bright with candle power greater than the sun; early morning overtime to pay the mortgage. Mile upon mile on weary legs and feet: varicose veins straining for release against tired old flesh. Trudging slowly uphill to catch the tram: faces drawing ground ward, eyes slumped like slag, cold and ready for the banality of another day on the job.

“See, you find one nice girl

You get to marry!

You both got job?

Ok, you save you money!

Always dumping wage into the bank.

You know, but food with wife wage…

2 years, maybe 3 you got

Twenty thousand dollars and you get loan.

Maybe 50-60 thousand. You buy a house!”

And you buy and you buy and you buy and you buy and you buy and you buy…

Down payments on a boneyard tenement

No running water



Who needs it, the dead make great tenants.

Yeah Jimmy I Know,

You walk mile after meaningless mile

Task after meaningless task

Worrying when production falls

When machinery breaks down,

The line runs faster

His tendons ache

Deaf to mid-range frequency

His eye, lost to an industrial accident.

The conveyor comes to a halt

Alarms and sirens

Precious production is being lost

Dollar after company dollar draining away

The factory screams:

This Cost: Me. ME!

The workers down tools for the duration. A young Vietnamese man offers his cigarettes to his workmate:




Almost a smile.

editors note:

Hope is pointless when humanity is perpetual. That’s how we want it, though. Always alive, always struggling, always until we’re ash. ~ tyler malone

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