In distant, dark places-
A factory, unbound-
The smog and hazy smoke
Call to us.
To breathe the smoke
Is disgraceful?
To breathe the smog
Is life.
The assembly lines pump
Toys, blood red,
Ancient and simple -
Dirty in all the right places.
Cheap and accessible -
Off the market.
The people and public
Do not want to play.
Yet factory workers talk,
Factory workers walk.
Factory word spreads,
And toys always win.
