Like the energy embedded
in every grain of matter
in every nucleus
in every atom
there is an enormous untapped power
in the hands of the millions
of working people in this country
who create the value every day
who are clerks and machinists
who are pilots and cleaners
who are nurses and teachers
who are a giant commune of labor
though you would never know it
in a system of production for profit
the way the workers are divided up
and the commodities are exchanged
who are black and white,
male and female,
latino and asian,
who are straight and gay,
who can and must unite,
around a fightback
if we are to survive,
let alone the people flourish,
the cities rebuilt,
racism crushed,
war abolished
the planet saved
who vote in this country
for Republicans and Democrats
parties of capital
as the case may be
I remember my father asking me
if not the Democrats
who should we vote for
in 1983
I had my little group
I had my little piece of the truth
but where was the working class
I didn’t know what to say
there is an extraordinary power
in the millions
who are the majority
in this country
you see it in every strike
you see it in every warehouse
where the glances
are exchanged,
there is that extraordinary
untapped power,
who fight the wars,
who return in body bags,
who not only die in the wars
but who also pay for them,
whose grandfather worked as a
coal miner,
whose grandmother worked as a
cleaning lady
whose daughter owes student debt
and works at starbucks
with so many bills to pay
there is that power
that extraordinary
untapped
power in this country
I think of Galileo with the sun
I think of Marx with his capital
I think of my father
driving home from work
not knowing
what he made
there is an incredible power
in the hands of working people
who make this country run
overlooked
underestimated
looked down upon,
stereotyped as stupid,
except when production comes
to a crashing halt,
and then as in a dream
we see everything clearly,
there is an incredible power
there is an incredible power
when combined with a media
that shouts it out
with a mighty workers party
that explains
about us
and the energy
and the struggle
and the power
who have built
the railroad
and the skyscrapers,
who punch computers
and make
the subways
run
like a secret
still to be named.
This poem was previously published by Blue Collar Review: Journal of Progressive Working Class Literature.
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