Pilot Plant

reassigned to work in shadow, to spend my nights looking up at machines
and taking notes at intervals and fixing lines
and pacing on the mezzanine to speed up time

a month to go before I see my girlfriend
the wait has sucked the life from me
the phone calls stretch apart
they don’t do much for me

in the mask my breath is sour, the body knows that something is awry
the break room walls at 2am are squinting bright
the bay doors, tall and sinister, admit no light

a month to go before I see my girlfriend
the wait has sucked the life from me
the phone calls stretch apart
no they don’t do shit for me

a column mounted overhead is dripping sludge
the sci-fi green carcinogen gets on my synthetic ambidextrous glove
this could be my super power to spin these clocks ahead
I’ll write in the logbook: a flash of light
and skip one month ahead

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