Hull Poem by Paul Judges

The ferries on the Humber river in England were replaced by a magnificent bridge, but memories are alive....

HULL CORPORATION PIER

if God is anywhere, it is here
an unexpected and unreceived visitor
bending an ear at the unruly Humber
as it bangs the seasick jetty like a death drum
stopping the booking office clock
at twenty-seven minutes past nine
throwing down a golden pontoon bridge
walking drunkenly to Lincolnshire

lunatic waves foam, like the jaws
of countless rabid whales
snapping sterns of belly-flopping barges
taking their lives on the concrete shore
crick-necked cranes idle like ageing courtiers
in King George Dock; fat, bemused pigeons
hop the pier’s planks – from their tiny dartboard eyes
seagulls ride on the salted wind
that brews far beyond Grimsby, and never dies

brown water splutters, licks through
oozing, gangrenous cracks
an oily lorry driver speculates on its demise
- the Bavarian church roof, always out of place
each morning, a couple of grey overcoats come
talk of steamers, or the Farringford
second-hand from Southampton


Notes: With the opening of the Humber Bridge in 1981 ferries between Hull and New Holland, on the south bank of the river, ended

Farringford – more modern ferry, not a paddle steamer