Poem by RELEE: Expediter

Expediter

They had no idea what to do with me
once they'd hired me at Goodyear Aircraft
in Akron. Fifty cents an hour and all
the overtime you ever dreamed of.
I had never dreamed of overtime, but
fifty cents an hour helped to pay for
the '36 Ford I bought to drive to
Goodyear Aircraft hangar where I had no
idea what I was supposed to do
when I punched in in the morning. I watched
a guy run his lathe, watched riggers on
the catwalks high above my head. I walked
from job to job and back again. I was
on the move. One day--why not?--I brought
a book with me. "You can't read in here," I
was told. I walked over to a guy on
the drillpress, watched him bore through two-inch
boiler plate. I watched someone else remove
burrs from a job. I could have been there
forever, moving from job to job, but
they drafted me. As I was getting out
of the army, I was asked what I did
in civilian life. I told them about
Goodyear Aircraft. They looked it up in a
big book. "You were an expediter," they
told me. It's on my discharge papers.
By God, I hope the world hears that. I was
an expediter. Me. And people thought
I wouldn't amount to anything. And here
I am, looking, still looking, expeditiously looking.

© Richard Lee