LIVERPOOL DOCKS 1896

This poem was inspired by the prompt - by now half the names on the list had already been crossed off.
 

LIVERPOOL DOCKS 1896

A ring of one hundred, two hundred men, all sorts, all ages

all heights, all nationalities, all names on the foremen's pages.

All united in one overriding desire - to get work.

The foreman wallows in his power, sports a sardonic smirk.

I look around at the pitiful sight of desperate men

all obliged to return day after day, time and time again.

The scantily dressed, rangy young man looking anxious and pale

who's seen better days, wonders if all this is to no avail.

He proudly shows a second hand cotton hook bought for threepence.

Next to him a tall man of muscle, once skilled in self defence,

spent seven years in the police, sacked for something, who knows what.

There are those who believe it had to do with a water butt.

The fair haired, freckled son of Erin, the broken down tradesman,

the ruined clerk, the betting man and brandy visaged barman.

All of us struggling, pushing, praying, cursing, crowding around,

not caring that some, in this sea of disheartened men, have drowned.

Trying to hide any sign of ill health, any sneeze or cough.

By now half the names on the list had already been crossed off.

Those that remain aware that they will not find that which they seek.

 "To get a few days at the.docks." ' Tis of hunger they reek..