A FINGER FOR THE WORKERS

by Donna Katzin

Cartoon by Nick Anderson

In his big-boss suit, the President 

tours the Ford factory, as if he owns the place,

until a heckler calls him a predator

without even slowing down the line

that devours his labor until the bell rings

to keep the country’s machinery running.

 

The boss’s fingers have never known a callous,       

labored long hours to meet production quotas

until they ached and his back complained.

They flick disdain and disrespect to workers 

like cigarette butts or young women used up

until the men on top tire of them,

spit them out, like last night’s nicotine—traumas and all.

 

But the gesture masquerading as power

sends a message to the shop floor crew—

the truth-teller has gotten under 

boss-man’s sagging skin,

and this group knows how to organize… 

They can do it again.

 
A former union organizer, Donna Katzin has worked for more than four decades with South Africa in its struggle to defeat apartheid and advance the new nation's  democratic development.  She also continues  through Tipitapa Partners to work with vulnerable Nicaraguan communities struggling to feed their children.  She is the author of With These Hands, a book of poetry and photos of South Africans struggling to give birth to a new nation, and a published poet honored to have been included in The New Verse News.

ELECTION NIGHT’S GLIMPSE OF WHAT THE PEOPLE REALLY WANT

by Raymond Nat Turner

“Universal suffrage is thus the gauge of the maturity of the working class. It cannot and never will be anything more in the modern state, but that is enough. On the day when the thermometer of universal suffrage shows boiling point among the workers, they as well as the capitalists will know where they stand.^” —Frederick Engels, Origins of the Family, Private Property, and the State

Celebratory blip on history’s continuum, tracing No Kings’ DNA to

Occupy-ish campus encampments. To pink pussy hats — #Me Too.

To Peoples Climate March, Strike-tober seasons of searing street heat —

Arab Spring to George Floyd Summer …

With warehouse hands lick … the Mayor-elect hit my 

Tear note Tuesday night

Hit my tear note like sopranos at Great Hope Baptist

Church, or Lady Day’s lovely “Autumn In New York.”

Bet he hit tear notes of thousands of phone bankers/door-knockers

Teaching NYC to shout No Mo Cuomo? 

Bet he hit tear notes of those reclaiming time from Turkey Trotting, 

Crooked rabbit footnote, PapaCop?

Bet he hit Muslim tear notes Big Apple-wide? Borough by

Borough? County-wide, state-wide?

World-wide with an authentic As-salamu alaykum and

Prayer for deliverance from raggedy-ass Islamophobia?

Bet he hit Jewish tear notes with sincere Shalom aleikhem? With

Recognition of tradition troubling czars, nazis, cossacks and klan?

Recognition of tradition opposing hospital-bombing, baby-killing 

Genocidal maniacs?

Celebratory blip on history’s continuum! DNA of vigilance, steel —

Class struggle — solidarity. Tuesday night’s tiny glimpse reveals

Good things will happen when we Walk; Chew gum; Shout slogans;

Text —  And Organize; Organize; Organize —       At the same time!

Raymond Nat Turner is a NYC poet; Black Agenda Report's Poet-in-Residence; and founder/co-leader of the jazz-poetry ensemble UpSurge!NYC.

PLAY FOR THE TEAM

by Buff Whitman-Bradley

“Why Summers May Never Be the Same” The globe’s warmest months on record redefined summer for many Americans. —Julie Bosman reporting from Chicago, where it is 84 degrees in October, for The New York Times, October 5, 2023

Even though summer heat

Has stopped by to remind us

That we are living in precarious times,

Autumn is unmistakably upon us.

The light is liquid gold,

Long, lanky afternoon shadows 

Are sprawling all over 

The houses and gardens and lawns

Up and down the block,

And there is something about

The taste and smell of the air,

Something leafy and loamy 

And earthily aromatic.

Even though summer heat

Has stopped by to remind us

That we don’t have a whole lot of time left

To flip the climate narrative,

To turn the dire story on its head.

Seasons do still come and go

And will keep doing so

If we are smart enough

And brave enough

And passionate enough

And organized enough

To resist the despoilers of earth and air,

Confiscate their piggy banks,

And stick the spoiled kids back

In their play houses and their little red wagons

Until they can learn

To get with the program

And play for the team.

Buff Whitman-Bradley’s latest book is And What Will We Sing? (Kelsay Books). He podcasts at thirdactpoems.podbean.com and lives with his wife Cynthia in northern California.

AN AMERICAN WORKER SPEAKS TO THE LEADERS OF THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY

by George Salamon

This graphic appeared in various newspapers on Labor Day, 1941. The prose poem beneath the graphic reads as follows: I am Labor. I stand before you on this, my day, free and proud. I am the incarnation of Work, and Work is the foundation of modern civilization. Before the silvery bombers can take the air my skilled fingers have fashioned and serviced them. The shining shell, the precise rifle, the intricate clockwork of tank and ship, these grew beneath the trained and intelligent hands with which I get my living. Because the things I do are basic and necessary, I yeld my dignity to no man. Because of that dignity, I prize my manhood and my freedom. I Shall defend it. To those who would degrade me to an automation, make me a slave, I return loud and scornful laughter. Here in my United States I am more than a Worked, more than a Laborer, I am a Man. This manhood, this freedom, on my own Labor Day of 1941, I do not propose to yield. Source: Urania.

"Republican politicians have always been in our pocket. Now we have most of the Democrats."  Jeff Faux, "Class War: The view from the Board Room," The American Prospect, January 15, 2014

"We have set up a series of policies that work for those at the top and leave everyone else behind. And what I say is it's time to change that." Senator Elizabeth Warren, "On the road with Sanders and Warren: Will the Democrats follow them to the left?"  The Guardian, August 27, 2017


Once we were brothers and sisters. you and me,
Standing together to battle America's plutocracy.
We fought the same sweatshops, the heartless boss,
The same low wages, capitalism's cross.
You helped balance the economic scales of power,
FDR even made the cruel bankers cower.
But, Nancy and Chuck, you were skillful and quick
To get out from under, you mastered that trick.
We toiled and endured, we had little choice
While you were able to gain a powerful voice.
We trusted you, then, do you remember when?
When the New Deal gave us the right to organize,
Granting millions a fair chance in the race of life.
When your party tried to eradicate poverty,
Moving us a step closer to social equality.
Then the political wheel turned to the right,
Many Democrats abandoned our common fight.
For decades now, we've tumbled into rage and despair,
Even helped elect a huckster billionaire.

This is now, but we both need what was then.
On this day of labor, remember when.

George Salamon who lives in St. Louis, MO would love to see the "for" return to "government for the people."