The Effort

Where the rivets build their metal seams
And make monsters from steel and sweat,
Dreams are swept where paychecks are met
With all the cascading corpses they’ll create.

Whispers of patriotism clang along
Around the hollow pings of machines,
And posters stare doubts into confidence
For the dirty-tired working the floor.

Pots and pans, long since war contraband,
Are missing from glistening kitchens
And are as notable gone as the women there,
Filling the lines for men who have gone to die.