broken walls and narratives

A not so revolutionary blog about feminism, socialism, activism, travel, nature, life, etc.

Archive for the tag “poem about work”

Graveyard Shift

Graveyard Shift

Graveyard Shift

H. Bradford

7/4/19



I am the corpse

You are the necromancer

You pay the wage,

I am your dancer.

You say the chant

and I bow and grovel,

I ask for rest

and you hand me the shovel.

I sell you my soul in subservient smiles,

Anything less, goes in the files.

I am the ghost with no stomach to feed

You are the vampire who drinks when I bleed.

You are the witch,

My wardrobe is rags

This shift fits like a body bag.

This is the graveyard,

This is my life,

Welcome to working.

Welcome to life.

Care is a Wall

Care is a Wall

Care is a Wall

H. Bradford

6/5/19

I work at a domestic violence shelter, so much of my work involves care work.  Sometimes this is exhausting and demoralizing- especially the large amount of bodily fluids that appear around the shelter.  So, this is a poem I wrote about the not so wonderful aspects of care work.


Care is a wall,

A car crash for careers

And a barrier more than a connection.

It is blood in the halls

Leaky diapers on laps

And urine soaked sheets.

It is a thousand unmet needs

Needs that ooze biohazards and suffering

from the places quarantined by the state.

Care is the work of women

Women with accents and darker complexions.

Care is the everyday Chernobyl

Of tending to capitalism’s toxic leftovers

With no evacuation in sight.

Care is a wall

To fight, storm, or surrender.

To die hopelessly against.

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