Red Ink Sludge

Greetings from Paradise The whirring pneumatic drills, Building up and taking apart. The white noise of a hundred radios, All tuned into different stations. The wooshing of the air guns Blow drying pumps and cases. The yelling of the bosses to move faster, Mixing in with the grumbling from co-workers. Eyes glazing over Like the morning's leftover coffee; Wish you were here...