Steel Toes to Stilettos

I published a maudlin poem about the transformation of the Plant in the Winter 2018-2019 issue of the Blue Collar Review. At the time I was saddened by having just lost a rezoning battle. I was afraid the Plant would be eradicated by sprawl America: we were going to be flattened by a giant development, and I was bereft by the notion that we would be reduced from "making things" to "making change." I thought it was about moving away from manufacturing into a world of retail.

The development never happened. The rezoning passed, and reverted. Nothing happened.

Three years later, Tami threw a remarkable "Steel Toes to Stilettos" party at the Plant. I revised the poem--to get rid of the sadness--and read it at the opening. It was a great party.

Here is the version I read:

Steel Toes to Stilettos (Revisited)

Our Plant used to rattle and hum.

Pumps roared at three hundred gallons per minute,

tanker trucks came and went.

We all wore uniforms and steel toed boots

because the work was heavy and ruined

our clothes.

When people started showing up for

bottles of wine in boxes and bags

the footwear changed.

We tore down the barbed wire,

spruced up the Cold War buildings

and re-developed the place.

Gone are the totes of acid.

Gone is the rumble of industry.

We’ve gone from steel toes to stilettos

to keep our place in this town.