The Skyscraper - Raymond Corder, Socialist poet, New York, 1921

The Skyscraper

Talk about beauty — Why, boy,  

That scene would fill a blooming sphinx with joy!

 All that steel frame-work bristling in the sun 

Is something we have done.

We are creators, man, 

We sweated, plugged, and built it, span by span 

And every rusty beam that skyward towers 

Is ours -- we built it -- it is ours! 

Sure, buddy, sure, I know 

The boss has got it now -- he'll have to go; 

When we form our Industrial Parliament --

We'll can him subsequent --

But, say, bo, watch them clouds,

 They seem to stand still while that eye-beam strouds 

Across the sky -- she's pretty, ain't she, son? 

That piece of work we've done. 

- Raymond Corder, Socialist poet, New York, 1921