A siren sounds over Astra town

Threat of closure revisits Ellesmere Port

Financial Times, 26 March 2012

I

There’s a siren sounds at the turn of each shift

that we set the clocks by in our town.

Nothing much else disturbs the peace

at least till the landlady hollers time

and those who’ve spent the day guiding

seats onto runners, bolting alloys

onto hubs with pounding pneumatic

spanners, burnishing livery badges

(admittedly with greater pride

if it’s a Vauxhall, though few now are),

down their Stellas, their Speckled Hens,

with a thought for the poor sods turning nights.

II

There’s two and a half thousand workers

on the Vauxhall merry-go-round,

and many a publican, butcher or bookie

along the road home through Hooton

(which was base to the 6-1-0 squadron

during the war). But news from the front

(no Enigma required, it’s all in the papers)

says the Germans are scheming, again,

aiming to close down the plant on efficiency

grounds, too many tea breaks they claim

(some might say they’re attacking our Englishness).

Detroit looks on, promising fairness:

‘materials, markups, then labor,’ they say,

but an Englishman’s labour is the price they pay.

(c) 2012 Slush Poet

Made in Japan

Nissan announces Sunderland jobs bonanza as new model is unveiled

Sunderland Echo, 6 March 2012

My small hands held the present like

a beating heart in a jar. I placed it on the hearth rug

and peeled its shiny layers away. My own space capsule!

(Batteries not included. Made in Japan.)

My small town had two museums

where the tourists went. They came with cameras

fixed to their faces. They took their money back to London.

(They had long lenses. They came from Japan.)

My first car was a Datsun which I drove

into the ground. It turned to rust on the street outside

and I had to pay the scrap man a tenner before he’d tow it away.

(Replacement parts were cheaper from Japan.)

My small corner shop would collapse without Nissan.

The wages my customers spend are sent from Japan.

(c) 2012 Slush Poet