Rediron poem by Wayne Jackson


This job had no such drive. To this job there was a four lane highway, and there were kids waiting for the bus. Norm laughed while I sang. “If you see me gettin’ small, don’t worry. I’ve got the right to disappear.” Darrell yelled “Up, Chester, Up!” and the first piece of rediron came up to us, and it was nine oclock.

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