Creative Work Poetry

A Wednesday / Restlessness / Ode to the Distribution Brigades

By Carlos Campos Jr

A Wednesday

Sweat pours down
      Beep! Beep!
Scan faster - 
                   Change Hundreds
             Take Thousands
       Earn Millions
Circulate endless change
sweat the bills away.

                    Lines, Lines
               Endless Lines
          Make Money
     Keep None

Sweat pours down
      Codes! Numbers!
Type faster = 
                     here's A code for eggs
                 A code for shirts
            A code for souls
let numbers flow
let's make more codes!

The belt churns
faster faster goes
time tires the speed

              No time
       to think
to feel
scan scan scan
scam time of its Time

make it go back
       not forward

                  It's Fordism__
           It's Post-Fordism
Manufacturing is dead
Long Live Manufacturing 
of the kind 
that moves
              labor down
       and leaves
labor here
       to be called
             Teen Jobs


I can't stand the ceiling's stare
judging the glowed smoke
I look up
seeing the smoke coil upwards 
being the snake sliding past the air.

Light from the dark outside
oozes into curtained windows, forcing 
luminous clarity on turbulent emptiness 
¿Why? am I condemned 
to see
the only way to 
is to offer embers
and foggy shadows?

How many nights has this not occurred?
My eyes
swollen from the pain of activity
desire closing.
but how?
tomorrow will be another day. perhaps.
The ceiling stares
My exhaustion is complete; I cannot sleep.

Ode to the Distribution Brigades

Dedicated to the Supply Drop Volunteers after the Freeze

The line stretches far 
filled with hungry faces and 
solemn eyes waiting impatiently; 
the sun weighs them down
the wind pains their bones

the line stretches far
for they lack water and food
      basic necessities

That's where you come in.
the red shines through 
gray abandoned solemnity 
you, tirelessly 
press on - engaged in endless 
combat against the isolation of 
Our people

In this combat 
        against hunger 
        against thirst
        against abandonment of us 
you are the tip of the spear
the Distribution Brigades 
sharing what little we've got
showing change comes only from us 
shining your red against the frozen gray.

The line stretches far
we are all aware
       of the need
       of the limits
Yet we press on - 
share what we have!
share that bit of bread today
build that bit of conscioousness;

for every hungry face seen
desperate for a sign of change,

will be a determined face tomorrow
storming heaven to end the need
for any more brigades 

About the Writer: Carlos Campos Jr (they/them) is a Chicanx (pronounced chee-cahn-eh) poet. They were born and live in Texas but their home is in Monterrey, and is a founding member of the Houston DSA Arts Collective. Their work can be found in the Houston Review of Books, where they debuted. One can find Carlos on Instagram as @CompaPoeta. They’re always open to messages, whether it be poetry or random discussion.

Leave a Reply

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

You are commenting using your 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 )

Connecting to %s