I used to pack Next catalogues,
hoover fluff off M&S coats,
test potatoes for Walkers crisps,
shuttled in by bus to the factories,
school bells had prepared me.
I always silently questioned the bells
that herded us to break room to factory floor
from classroom to playground.
Were the bells automated
had someone being interviewed for the position?
I never had to go to an interview
in the first ten years of my working life.
I was just a pair of hands,
barely mentioned in Das Capital.
I did what my Brother said I was supposed to do
produced new economic units,
new cogs for the means of production.
School bells ring in my head.
go to work,
Andie Berryman spent her formative years listening to women’s stories in her Gran’s kitchen in the economic defunct North East of England in the 80’s and early nineties.She went on to a earn a degree in the 00’s. She believes the sum of real life minutiae is political, important, and just as worthy as any imagined dystopian novel.Andie writes reviews (for her own blog and The F word) and has been published in Pankhearst’s ‘Slim Volume: No love Lost’ and the latest Slim Volume, ‘This Body I live In’ and has had poems published in the Three drops from a cauldron poetry zine. Andie lives in Oxford with two, near teen daughters and a foster cat that has fleas.
Follow Andie on Twitter: Andeebee @andieberryman.