4375. AT THE TRIANGLE SHIRTWAIST FACTORY

AT THE TRIANGLE

SHIRTWAIST FACTORY

I was standing there when all these girls

were jumping  -  it was a truly horrible

sight and I cried. Impaled on fenceposts

or smashed on the pavement below, nothing 

of it was understandable  -  at that moment  -  

to me. Now, of course, in hindsight it is all

so clear : merchant bastards pushing points

and closing doors to make their thirty pieces.

I wish my hate were hunger and could be sated.

I warn you all, oh management men, do not 

go home tonight. There is nothing on your

fat table but buttered blood and 

slabs of festered death to eat.