Photo courtesy of Steve Simko

Less lunchbox than mess kit¹,
What with that fitted lidAnd handle, the canister set inside it,
Cap threaded tight—All got toted off to work in the mills,
The pail as much a stapleAs the bread and tea and leftover² meats:
Meals unpacked³ like job lots.At the end of the shift
It went back on the shelfTill the next day, a soon-to-be vestige⁴
Of the Industrial Age.Catalogued here,
The metal’s sheen is gelatin silver,Its tin stamped and banded
Like a galvanized can.I brown-bagged my meals,
Years later, to the 100-inch mill,Though there were days when
My hours by the ovensFlayed me with such heat
I wondered how anyone could eat.