Twenty men stand watching the muckers. Stabbing the sides of the ditch Where clay gleams yellow, Driving the blades of their shovels Deeper and deeper for the new gas mains, Wiping sweat off their faces With red bandanas. The muckers work on...pausing...to pull Their boots out of suckholes where they slosh. Of the twenty looking on Ten murmur, "O, it's a hell of a job," Ten others, "Jesus, I wish I had the job." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FORSAKEN by C. HAMILTON AIDE THERE WAS A GARDEN by MARIE BARTON THE BRIGHT ASSASSIN by WILLIAM ROSE BENET PSALM 6. DOMINE NE IN FURORE by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE MAD WIND by CATHERINE BRADSHAW CONTENTED MIND by JANE (HUGHES) BRERETON EXTRACTS FROM THE RUBAIYAT OF OMAR CAYENNE by FRANK GELETT BURGESS TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. S. JAMES PARK by EDWARD CARPENTER |