Whoops!
Sorry, well spotted Christina, Chris should be Steve!!
(I've changed his name!)
Bob
>From: Christina Fletcher <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: Re: In The Dock At Wallsend
>Date: Tue, 2 Jul 2002 14:01:12 EDT
>
>Bob, I'm just here for a few minutes but I can't work out who Chris is from
>the poem. I mean, I can if I assume that he's the person who starts
>speaking
>on the third line but it starts with 'And...', so I assumed that Big Steve
>was continuing a monologue. Wish I'd time to read very carefully before
>making this comment. I think it's a cracking poem.
>Thanks for posting such a good read.
>bw
>christina
>
>
> > In The Dock In Wallsend
> >
> > *It’s only here I believe in ghosts,* Big Steve says
> > as he takes a sip, speaks quietly, his back to the bar.
> > *And these days I know I look like him in the photographs
> > my Mam has in the drawer below the model we’ve kept
> > that he returned to each time he was laid off –
> > some Clan Line Freighter he and Grandad helped build –
> > and he’d hunch over it in silence for hours.
> > It took years to complete, getting things just right.
> > And it’s the same length as him, too heavy for Mam,
> > so I dust it when I call by, polish the brass.
> > He was canny with his hands, kind once
> > in a while, but a real bastard when drunk.
> > All those pints and chasers on launch days
> > before he’d turn round on our doorstep
> > and yell down the road at the gap in the sky.
> > Then barge into my bedroom, “Son,” he’d say,
> > “if I ever find ye in a pub ah’ll kill ye.”
> > The last time I saw him was on the day he died
> > when he just looked back as if wanting to speak.
> > But he never did.* And Chris downs his 80/-,
> > says, *So,* - then knocks back the Teachers –
> > *on the odd time I come here, I always watch the door.*
>
>
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