THE BUTTERFLY FACTORY



We're running off butterflies this year,

fifty-five thousand a minute,

to be most precise.

To be honest,

I find the pretties to be quite dear,

and working here is nice.



You see,

we used to pound out people,

big and tall and proud,

forty-four a second, but that got to be a crowd.

They didn't follow orders,

they almost always went astray,

they got into most everything, much to our dismay.



And then,

they decided to take over,

remove the management from on top,

"Grow, grow!", they said,

"Run the machinery non-stop!"

"Diversify!  Multiply!

Sell franchise rights afar!

We'll attract foreign investors

from every bleeding star!"

"We'll monopolize the market,

cost-factor to a penny,

find a way to make us cheaper,

so we can make us, twice as many!"



Well then,

we sent 'em out,

saying "Scram, shoo, scat, get lost!

We made you 'cause we loved you,

not because of cost!

And now you want to make yourselves,

in multiples, no less!"



And then we cut the power,

and tossed the whole darn mess!



Yes,

now we're making butterflies,

yellows, mauves and roses.

I work department forty-four,

I specialize in noses.

I think they're rather pretty,

that is, the finished product.

Why, there's customers lining up outside,

everyone has bought it!



And as for those people,

those meddlesome little people,

those blundering, offensive, demanding little people,

we shipped them in expresses

to the plant for excesses,

irregulars and messes,

and last we'd ever heard of them,

they're making wonderful mayhem.



Yesterday, however,

a butterfly was found

questioning a worker

about cost-factors. . .



copyright Steven Woods, 1997

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