My son heaves plywood
on the line, where compressed air
and staples two inches long
find their rhyme: throw a board up
staple back, whack,
along paneling lines. Throw a board up
stable back, whack.
No words ever spoken.
Stud walls swabbed with industrial glue
nailers and screwgunners
to echo and reverb.
Jigs glide along painted red lines.
Sixteen inch centers, eighty foot walls
paneled, in record time.
A foreman rides herd on Jimmy-
calls him Boy.
Trailer factory bits and pieces
have no names. No studs, plates,
headers. No Harlan, Merle,
or Jesse John.
All items numbered for pick up
and framing. It’s nothing personal
Peggy Douglas, Ph.D. is the poetry workshop coordinator and on the Board for the Knoxville Writers Guild. Her poems have been published in the Kakalak Anthology of Carolina Poets; Bleeding Heart Anthology; Binnacle Poetry Journal; Maypop Journal; Glass Poetry Journal; The Light of Ordinary Things Anthology; Chantarelle Notebook, Now & Then: The Appalachian Magazine, and Still: Literature of the Mountain South.