The bard celebrates two other fine practitioners of the art, and laments a lost brewer
In Union
Sally Flint
i.m. Bob Crow
Born in reach of the London Mint
he watched men make money –
got to know the value of working days
as families were transported from slums
and shared bathrooms to fields
and forests which seemed the other side
of the world. Coming home was the only way.
His grandfather, a prize fighter, taught him how
to punch, to use weight. Life can be made better.
Share the wine whether communist,
libertarian, socialist. Those who shook
his hand believed it to be both strong
and soft – that the best connections
are rooted in truth.
ALAN MORRISON recommends a consummate, heart-warming collection about a working-class upbringing in the industrial north-east
ANDY CROFT welcomes the publication of an anthology of recent poems published by the Morning Star, and hopes it becomes an annual event
TONY FOX invites readers to come and hear the story of the remarkable Liverpudlian International Brigader Alexander Foote
by Widad Nabi


