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Shakespeare's Monkeys

Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.

More in The Personal Space of Norman Milliken

factory

factory

sun drifts down dust
stairs
through rows
of machines
shredding dreams,
tappet rhythm

    your life
    your life
    your life

as evening dims
windows high
above the floor.

Celticlion - on May 10 2008
I like the succint, detached style of your expression- each line seems an observation, a fact, even, about a place that exists despite, "your life, your life, your life". That repetition works really well and gives the feeling that life has been an objectified product within the context of the factory's environment. An excellent write...C
Norm - on May 10 2008
Thank you for the kind words.
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