Making It

It’s you and me today friend, in this hole.
Hydraulics to the main de-skinner burst
last night.  Deferring maintenance takes it’s toll.
So we’ll fix that. But let’s get coffee first.

How can a place like this even exist?
I mean, live cables, coiled in pools of blood?
Vats of pig guts. Whole place smells like piss.
But look: you’re making it.  You’re doing good.

In twenty years you’ll be where I am now.
Still running wires. Still covered up with grease.
Still keeping all this powered-on, somehow.
But closer to the end.  And more at peace.

You know the bosses call this work “essential”
and people here seem mighty proud about it.
But I don’t see it all so existential.
It’s breakfast meat.  We all could do without it.

-B Taylor Jun 20 2024