A Workers' Graveyard (Poor Eternal)

What if all their boats sank? What if the sea ate them before they arrived?

What could it be here if they never came here?

Not this workers’ graveyard or poor eternal or failing home

But the ships arrived and spat us out, sons and daughters of poor eternal

A workers’ graveyard a failing home the sweat bled out – bird nest in all our holes

Hung in pillars of dust, us a river pour and gasp

Hung in pillars of dust, us ashore abandoned and gazing