Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Steely-eyed Jim built the city with his bear hands.
His arms are oak trees; his head a barrel chest;
his eyes molten rivets; hair a 12 gauge sheet.
He roams the rust-bubbled girders of Ohio;
lines up boilermakers on a boozewood bar.
Bourbon flows in canyons of his rocky chin.

His Peterbilt mind; his size forty-two steel toe
crush scented magazines like mere paper.
His cast-iron legs, unfiltered camel biceps,
have the strength to cut down Everest,
though his paycheck cuts nary a tab.

Enjoyed every word of it !!!!! I know this man down here as foundry Dan , same cut of cloth

requiem for the blue collar ?.....where is john henry ?.....you load sixteens tons, whatta ya get.....another day older and deeper in debt.....

Thanks leaf, saw. Yeah, a lot of us know guys like this, or at least have seen them in movies, or heard about them in lore... "Sixteen Tons"-- yeah, that's it, pretty much. Some wacky descriptors here to convey the image, but that's part of the fun.

I know this guy.

Sandburg wrote about his grandfather.

Good to see the bloodline still flows
(as does the ink).

Just noticed this. Thanks Ghost. I had to read some Sandburg poetry after that.

I'm really not around this place much these days-- just the odd poem every month or 2 ...