Docker
© By Seamus Heaney
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There, in the corner, staring at his drink.
The cap juts like a gantry’s crossbeam,
Cowling plated forehead and sledgehead jaw.
Speech is clamped in the lips’ vice.
That fist would drop a hammer on a Catholic-
Oh yes, that kind of thing could start again;
The only Roman collar he tolerates
Smiles all round his sleek pint of porter.
Mosaic imperatives bang home like rivets;
God is a foreman with certain definite views
Who orders life in shifts of work and leisure.
A factory horn will blare the Resurrection.
He sits, strong and blunt as a Celtic cross,
Clearly used to silence and an armchair:
Tonight the wife and children will be quiet
At slammed door and smoker’s cough in the hall.
© Seamus Heaney, permissons Faber & Faber Ltd.
Seamus Heaney describes the blunt bigotry of a Protestant shipyard worker and links the violence of sectarian prejudice to narrow and literal minded religious faith. He sees the same culture producing domestic violence too.