Short Wave--A Poem
59
“Base, where are my trucks?
Why aren’t they here?”
The foreman whined over the air
A truck of cold asphalt
Was his darkest fear
The crew stood idle until they appeared
“They left the batch plant sometime back.”
“Never mind--they’re here.”
A 10-wheeler dumped its ebony gold
To the laydown machine, as steam
Rose to greet the morning cold.
A typical day for a gal in short wave
“Where are my trucks?”
“Who has the plans?”
That was my job back in the day
A bellowing boss and crying foremen
Paving and grading, that was the game
While I ran the radio
In the world of short wave.
(c) 2009 Dink96
Blaw Knox/Volvo paving machine
10-Wheel Dump Truck
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Comments
I thought you would be able to relate to this crazed world! The paving foreman was a big whiner on the air. I took shorthand and read his instructions back to him verbatim, so he was a happy camper. What you described is exactly what would happened! One time the crew even let me ride the laydown machine for a stretch--what a gas! Thanks for leaving a comment from the other side of the globe. Happy building, Marco.
This in one of the jobs that I've never held. I'm sure that you could produce a few more stories on this topic. It must have been tough to be a mediator, albeit communicator. You've somehow managed to turn this into a poem--and a great job at that. Thanks.
marcofratelli says:
2 months ago
I like it! That sounds all too familiar from work!! The trucks hardly came on time. If the first one did, the trucks following never arrived at the required time intervals, sometimes we'd miss an interval and have 2 trucks show up at the same time :(