Broken Blade Guard1 Cowhide gloves, palms flecked with pinesap, knuckles streaked with sweat; stains two hands inside them yellow,2 skin rough like burlap. Sawdust swirls in a single shaft of sunlight that fans in across the concrete floor from the forty-foot door; wooden stairs creak under leather work-boots as the boss man makes rounds. The metal roof pings,3 promising another scorcher. Screeching whine of circular saw blades spin up. Snapping blade guards bare their teeth, biting through pine two by fours. And Square's4 right foot. Blood unites with sweat, pooling about his boot. We converse calmly, as if our quick ride to town will fetch supplies, not stop his life from draining away or soaking the towel wrapped round his foot. We arrive at our shabby hospital where unconcerned staff5 chat. Who was seen where and with whom, not who might die waiting for care. A thick streak follows Square. Red. Wet. Down the hall. It dries hard, is mopped, and still no doctor comes. Unlike me, he bears anguish and neglect. Resiliently silent. A broken spring on his blade guard; our OSHA6 record crumbles. Facing a life of adversity, unable to work or feed his family, Square (reserved and gentlemanly) remains upbeat and humble.
Bullet Quarterly College of William and Mary Friday, February 14, 2014
1. A blade guard is a safety device that retracts while a saw blade is cutting wood, but it snaps back to cover the spinning blade after the cut is made. 2.Cured leather bleeds when wet. 3. Metal cools and contracts overnight only to expand and sing when the sun gets hot. 4. His nickname came from his meticulous habit of squaring walls and floors before applying sheeting or decking. 5. Was it because I am white and Square is not? I should have asked but I didn't. 6. Occupational Safety and Health Administration provides rules for work safety and a chart stating the number of days since the last injury. The day after Square's accident, our chart shed its single tear.
The Queen of OD I saw an empress Cloaked in night Still as a Persian bust Her quiet figure Hiding radiant Behind two dumpsters Nicotiana incense swirling through Her motor oil hair Innocence invisible A profane habit of Puffs soft and shallow Her right arm conducting A pulmonary performance Before I could Call out in praise She disappeared In a whisper of smoke She never saw me Melting beneath the moon I went back to work
(in a sense so was I)
Bullet Quarterly College of William and Mary Friday, February 14, 2014