i visited that quarry
i stood in that riving shed
as you call it
i watch that slate worker
split the rock ever thinner
each time
the bond
between mother and child
was too much for me
every time
I found myself on the wasteland
i worked in a quarry
we crushed our rocks
mechanically
mercilessly we pulverised them
into dust
then calcified the dust even finer
each time
i was to be overlooked
not even to have a share
of the spoils
every time
i found myself alone and lonely
