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Work Days

Jon Tait

Thursday, April 16th, 2009

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Sitting on a half bag of plaster
in a black donkey jacket
with UCATT pin in the collar
rustling in a bag of pork scratchings
& sipping strong stewed tea
from a tartan flask
wind flapping torn plastic
in empty window frames &
old newspapers lying folded in the dust
listening to a joiner in blue boilersuit
by the orange glow of a three bar heater
telling stories of past players
hard as sledgehammers
the leather balls that soaked up water
& doubled in weight & how
Jimmy Scott got knocked clean out
when he went up for a header
& copped the laces across his brow
discussing the stories on the tabloid back pages
when the plumber by the window
says the boss’s car is coming up the road
so you pick up a shovel
& head back to the putting diesel mixer
cement & lime hot in your nostrils
longing for Saturdays
the fresh green squares of grass & white lines
a flock of pigeons in flight
circling the ground.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/work-days/?shared=email&msg=fail