Part I
From the dry
and sliding air
of the brick kiln
to the tannery baths
of formaldehyde,
chromium and cadmium,
mercury and lead,
from mine to battlefield,
from Hell to waste heap,
all along the red, red threads
of this world,
the little hands twisted
to scavenge and sell,
to spin and dig,
to weave and sow.
Barefoot and jackbooted
indentured, in danger,
he is taking his aim,
she is caught in the machine,
he is caught in the wreckage,
she is hiding from her husband,
they are still waiting
for Santa Claus
and his western sleighful.
Part II
The latent colonist
is slow in retreat;
Titania and Oberon
must have their Indian boy,
Europa, shipping her laundry
across the sea,
must have her diamonds and her cobalt,
her mica and her nikes,
darling upholstery
Bengali black,
gifts from the Maharaja,
fruits of the shamba.
To speak of devils,
these marketeers!
Beyond insidious
in fealty to the empire,
I mean enterprise,
well-trained in the fine arts
of ethical erosion;
hiding the means of production
eradicating choice and
breeding apathy,
scrubbing just enough
until we can’t see
the blood on our own shoes.
Article 32
You have the right to protection from work that harms you, and is bad
for your health and education. If you work, you have the right to be
safe and paid fairly