Ship It!

I haven’t forgot my sonnet sequence of corporate-inspired departmental analyses of divisions of labor multiplied with end-rhyme subtracting the stray octave assonance or more. Vacations can shut me down for weeks sometimes. Just days this time around. Am I trying to practice what I preach? Is no department closer to the Folk than shipping? Is deliverance more than a movie? More at eleven.

Shipping Articles of Faith

It’s where the fabrication meets the road,
the shipping supervisor tells his hands
each end-of-month, his tongue caressing cheek.
The young ones conjure up assembly lines
or visions of some parcel underneath
an eighteen-wheeler while the driver puffs
profanities with country music twang
or civil Rush-insinuating slang.
But older ones (with spines that know the twist
and spin of commerce better than the way
they drive to work each day) will picture this:
a salesman promising deliverance
—vehicles that transport the very soul!—
although the road is out of his control.

I know I will revisit this topic in another sonnet soon. This one went out to lunch on its own. I brown-bagged it on a metaphor or two.