Fettling Home

number 226 sprayed on decaying metal surface

Other poems:
Foundry Man
Who’ll Gimmie Mi a Job Nah
Our Canteen Ladies
Dinner Line
Lights Out
The Ice Cream Van Cometh
The Company Watch
A Little Ditty
A Tale to Tell

No 159 by Alison Butler

The ground here is accustomed to the vibrations and sounds of a plant in constant working action.
Day and night the furnaces melt, then hold the liquid aluminium at productions call.
Fork lift trucks with their heavy loads, clattering; gain attention from the men in their dusty overalls.
For sixty years the work has been flowing, dayshift, and night shift without a pause.
But now closure is slowly creeping in through theses gates, it will then pour with a gush into the machinery, and the lives of the workmates.
Silence will replace the heat and motion; number 159 will be a memory which time will erase.






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