Karen Weyant‘s Stealing Dust (published by Finishing Line Press) makes you feel too hot, too sticky, too tired, too old, too dirty. It sings the songs of the assembly line so irresistably you will sing along whether you have sung them before or not:
Forget eyeliner. It stains shadows beneath your eyes.
Forget mascara. It runs. Even the waterproof kind.
from “Beauty Tips from the Girls on 3rd Shift”.
The poems make obvious and close as skin worlds outside my own experience. From the title poem:
They don’t care about what we
take home with us: dirt that crawls
up our jeans, seeps through our socks,
leaving tiny dots like deer ticks
embedded deep in our skin
and dust that melts through our shirts,
our white tank tops, our bras, coloring
the tips of our nipples, black.
The poems open your eyes, then blind you. From “3rd Shift Sunrise”:
The sun looks different
after 8 hours of dust & dirt,
& fluorescent white lights.
as if melted from furnaces
that never stop running.
You can find more of Karen’s work on her website.