This poem reminds me that there is always a human or humans behind the production of goods. I’ve willed myself to become a cog in the production of things a few different times in my life and
Remember the monotony, and sometimes even the soul demolishing it takes to continue that work. My father was always quick to ask us as kids to look at the tags on our clothes, consider the country and the people who made them. Having done this work at times in my life, this is a powerful reminder of the life, and the people who live it everyday. Thanks for choosing this poem today.
"... Back then, we were content to clock out and in,
rhythm and myth of what is called unskilled labor ..."
Until I was 30 years old, all my jobs after dropping out of college in despair were in factories, mostly industrial sewing. I had to work and "unskilled labor" jobs were all I felt qualified for. I saw no way out of them. William Ward Butler's poem spoke to me and reminded me of a poem called "Factory," a poem that I read after quitting my last factory job and returning to college in 1980.
Allen Ginsberg wrote the following for Antler's poem "Factory":
"Factory inspired me to laughter near tears, I think it's the most enlightening & magnanimous American poem I've seen since “Howl” of my own generation, and I haven't been as thrilled by any single giant work by anyone of 60's & 70's decades as I was by your continuing inventions and visionary transparency ... More fineness than I thought probable to see again in my lifetime from younger solitary unknown self-inspirer U.S. poet––I guess it's so beautiful to see because it appears inevitable as death, that breakthrough of beauty you've allowed yrself & me."
Sections of the poem were printed in this magazine where I read it in 1979, starting on page 4:
I read most of the poems and your commentary. Some I do not understand. This one was so powerful and reflected the ambivalence of the speaker. The word "civilian" carried a sense of pride that was a counterpoint to the rest of the poem. It reflected memories of miners, railroad and construction workers generations ago. I see the famous photo of the men eating lunch on the high beams of a skyscraper.
This poem reminds me that there is always a human or humans behind the production of goods. I’ve willed myself to become a cog in the production of things a few different times in my life and
Remember the monotony, and sometimes even the soul demolishing it takes to continue that work. My father was always quick to ask us as kids to look at the tags on our clothes, consider the country and the people who made them. Having done this work at times in my life, this is a powerful reminder of the life, and the people who live it everyday. Thanks for choosing this poem today.
💙
As always, grateful for you and your writing.
"... Back then, we were content to clock out and in,
rhythm and myth of what is called unskilled labor ..."
Until I was 30 years old, all my jobs after dropping out of college in despair were in factories, mostly industrial sewing. I had to work and "unskilled labor" jobs were all I felt qualified for. I saw no way out of them. William Ward Butler's poem spoke to me and reminded me of a poem called "Factory," a poem that I read after quitting my last factory job and returning to college in 1980.
Allen Ginsberg wrote the following for Antler's poem "Factory":
"Factory inspired me to laughter near tears, I think it's the most enlightening & magnanimous American poem I've seen since “Howl” of my own generation, and I haven't been as thrilled by any single giant work by anyone of 60's & 70's decades as I was by your continuing inventions and visionary transparency ... More fineness than I thought probable to see again in my lifetime from younger solitary unknown self-inspirer U.S. poet––I guess it's so beautiful to see because it appears inevitable as death, that breakthrough of beauty you've allowed yrself & me."
Sections of the poem were printed in this magazine where I read it in 1979, starting on page 4:
https://wholeearth.info/p/coevolution-quarterly-winter-1979?format=spreads&index=0
I read most of the poems and your commentary. Some I do not understand. This one was so powerful and reflected the ambivalence of the speaker. The word "civilian" carried a sense of pride that was a counterpoint to the rest of the poem. It reflected memories of miners, railroad and construction workers generations ago. I see the famous photo of the men eating lunch on the high beams of a skyscraper.