Ramona, can you hear the Dockyard calling:
She nods, coy, distant.
Clanking, drag chains clamour, trailing frantic
Sombre empty vessels grey steel hulls
Slide into the salty sea
Growling heinous savage asides
Pledge revenge to be wreaked on distant
Raiders who may ask no mercy from on high:
Old footpads, pickpockets, chancers, wizened rouge
Consumptives retreat.
Cloth-capped shipwrights puff butts, feeling high
Looking hard, keenly noting blemishes, repairs,
Defects, work to do, and slow stare
behind at the crap strewn, broken,
dust clouded, scorched slipway
Mass observers congregate dumbstruck,
awed on the wrecked slipway
gazing in sombre wonder, muttering as Klaxons screech
The dust clears and the naked, absurd hulk flops
Quite near distant, adrift, buoyant.
Water spumes from tyred tugs jet,
Spray polluted tears from on high
Drenching squabbling gulls,
who craw and repair
to the dry side of the hull.
Ramona’s smiles, shining apostolic, in the dull
Room, barely heed the clamour on the stairs,
She undresses easy, I sigh,
Another Liberty Ship underway
Waiving the rules of the wolf
The racket distant, now less frantic
The crowd disperses, now less antic
Fleeting ecstasies, comparing, admiring
Nifty clips of the hull:
The news of recent street
Melt in stealth, frantic
To avoid the attentions of the rugger buggers
Muscling raucous wild things, corporal bulwarks
Flailing, clubbing, brutes culling
Conviction for conviction’s sake