Pub Story

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Auld Jack played oot on the wing
fought in the International Brigades
in Spain
& got a limp in Ebro
yellow dust powdered face
dull metal clang of a bullet
punching into a steel helmet
he copped a shard of shrapnel
for the cause
& married a Spanish lass
that he met in the hospital
who scrubbed the soot
off their red terrace step
& instead of olive trees saw
smoke billowing out of chimney stacks
a wet gleam like calm seas on the roof slates
shipyard cranes peering out of the gloom
& do you knaa, bonny lad,
he couldn’t half cross a bahl.


Source: https://footballpoets.org/poems/pub-story/