Man Or Machine?

Am I a man or a machine?

     Sometimes ‘tis hard to say;

     I plod along day after day

And ask myself what does it mean,

This dull tick-tock of toil? I ween

We’re both the same my lathe and I,

     In doing each our separate work;

     Tho, unlike me the lathe can’t shirk,

But spin around unceasingly

According to my will and plan;

And yet, my will must meet its span.

     So, after all, ‘tis plainly seen,

     Six days a week I’m a machine,

But on the seventh, man.

Nov. 1^st, ‘91