Working Hands

The working hands keep their secrets
quiet from lashes, contempt from smiling.

A deranged sense of right
but for a loaf of meat and potatoes.

The working hands of the world
move all things and wipe
away bitter tears.

A working loyalty with filtered
ears, stitched lips, calloused hands
and blindfold eyes.

Hands are always on the gears
of production and postpone
emotions ’till the living wake.

The working hands are always on
the ropes, levers, belts, presses
and discard the by-product.


The walls whisper air of conspiracy,
a rioted mutiny,
the working hands work towards progress.

2 Responses to “Working Hands”
  1. Such deep, deep intelligence and thought in this – bravo!! :)

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