Sense of Stevedores, by Ewen Glass

Men of the Docks, by George Bellows (USA) 1912

Sense of Stevedores
​
​Observing Men of the Docks by George Bellows
 
To hear a painting before you see it.
Through clang and clamour I gesture
to touch, feet taken by sodden bank;
there’s an industry in questions like 
 
how many? me or him?
 
One man's slough. Darkly, he separates 
to seek other opportunities, or else
to shatter in his own coat in a city 
windy and new. 
 
A skin down, he's open to the sentiment 
of letters home. A rain that feels like
falling sulphur begins as he walks
off his pride,
 
shedding it between buildings uptown
before returning, small enough now to fit 
between brushstrokes, and men
asking of headers
 
how many? me or him?
 
At last, I see the painting
and bright colour where there needn’t be.

Ewen Glass
​
Ewen (he/him) is a Northern Irish poet who lives in England with two dogs, a tortoise and lots of self-doubt; on a given day, any or all of these can be snapping at his heels. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in HAD, Bridge Eight, Poetry Scotland, Gordon Square Review and elsewhere. On socials (and in real life) he is pretty much ewenglass everywhere.