The Cement Plant

By Joshua Mehigan b. 1969 Joshua Mehigan
The cement plant was like a huge still
nailed in gray corrugated panels
and left out forty-five years ago
in the null center of a meadow
to tax itself to remorseless death
near a black stream and briars, where
from the moment it began to breathe,
it began falling apart and burning.
But it still went, and the men were paid.

The plant made dust. Impalpably fine,
hung in a tawny alkaline cloud,
swept into drifts against mill room piers,
frozen by rain on silo ledges,
dust was its first and its final cause.
Pinups were traced on their car windshields.
Dust gave them jobs, and killed some of them.
Late into evening their teeth grated.
Its product was dust, its problem dust.

The thing was blind to all its own ends
but the one. Men’s ordinary lives,
measured out on a scale alien
to that on which its life was measured,
were spent in crawling the junk machine,
fitting new gaskets, screws, and bearings,
deceiving it towards the mood required
for it to avail and pay. Somehow
it did. None cheered it. It sustained them.

Source: Poetry (October 2012).


This poem originally appeared in the October 2012 issue of Poetry magazine

October 2012
 Joshua  Mehigan


Poet Joshua Mehigan grew up in upstate New York and earned a BA from Purchase College and an MFA from Sarah Lawrence College. Influenced by the poetry of Philip Larkin, Jorge Luis Borges, and Edgar Bowers, Mehigan writes intelligent, morally complex lyric poems shaped by a nuanced attention to rhyme and meter. Critic Adam Kirsch praised The Optimist in a review for the New York Sun, observing, “Mr. Mehigan is Frost-like in the . . .

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Poem Categorization

SUBJECT Activities, Jobs & Working, Social Commentaries, Class

POET’S REGION U.S., Mid-Atlantic

Poetic Terms Free Verse

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Originally appeared in Poetry magazine.

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