broken factory
poem by  
  keith  o'connor
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. reflections on mortality
broken factory 

the silent smell 
of dead machines 
filled every corner 
of the broken factory 
there was a time 
the sweet smelling oil 
the silky smooth rhythmic 
hum of young hard steeled shafts 
spinning endlessly 
on their new titanium bearings 
everything dies 
comes to an end 
yet we have made so many 
different ways of saying "dies" 
of saying "dead" 
"the adventure is over" 
"the flame is snuffed" 
"darkness looms" 
"the limelight has gone out" 
"the game is over" 
plants - animals - people - machines 
all die in their own way 
we the living 
we live  -  just long enough 
to learn 
by whatever name 
life's cruel game sometimes 
let's us know before we die 
we will die 
we know 
but don't believe 
even the suicide knows 
but doesn't believe 
but we do believe 
that death 
is just a transition 
a journey  from 
one to other 
even though 
we don't know 
we believe we know 

Keith O'Connor 
2001 Dec 14  
ottawa canada

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