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father Worked Nights (Free verse) by poetandknowit

father lived in a factory. he would pound, pound and pound all night long, never stopping, never saying why. Laugh and scream, pound and pound -- no lunch hour, not even a coffee break. Pound and pound, using the cat and mother for his steel.

Christof 12-Sep-02/1:32 AM
If I were you commenting on this poem, P&K, I would, 'oh another poem about urban American working folk. Bored again. Yawn'. It seems that we all have our favourite little subjects doesn't it? It's called experience and observation from our lives. But as I'm not you I won't draw attention to such a blindingly obvious point and then pretend that it's a crucial critical insight. Instead I shall say I like this, including the 'cat and mother'. But you need to put some birds in it...




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