Arts & Culture

Graveyard Dredge

header

It’s hard to think now, how men with their

shovelfuls and boatloads and sideroads mixed

the best color, the good rock, the pay streak, the bedrock.

page2

Get a good look at shafts and rigs and steel hammers slamming

below the camp, beavers damming.

Graveyard7

Get a good look at 8 square meters of tailing piles

men febrile and fevered, for miles

Graveyard5

filling boxes with tools to reshape iron and wood

boxes of household and

grub, and wide metal tubs

and the women lugging

Graveyard9

ladles and bowls, stoking wood-burning stoves.

They hauled anything they did not fear to lose, except

fingers and toes,

a man’s body sliced in half

under pressure and hose.

Graveyard8

Dead men, like dozers

driving steam into frozen muck.

Get a good look at men, black-faced with grease

skin drawn tight against bone

scarred by an iron bucket’s icy stones.

Graveyard3

The dredge monster is asleep now

all rust and bones.

So much required to pursue their desire

this great force, gold, like a god,

riches flowed.

Women drank mint tea from thin rimmed cups

and men, with their restless hands and drunk injury

pierced the ground and staked fortunes,

PAID IN FULL

with their blood.

 

 

Poem by Monica Devine

Categories: Arts & Culture

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s