Sheriffer Poem by John Molloy

I don't remember the old
matchstick man
under the bridge
on the boundry wall.
I knew of Johnny Fortycoats.
Was he really real?
He seemed for ever
To be all over the city.
I never liked the cattle
Stampeding from the docks
Through the flats
And clearing the street
Of all but the
Stony corner boys.
I loved the 'aul ones;
Bright eyed ancient old dears
Who always asked
How me Ma' was
And telling me
I was 'only gorgeous.'
I never felt the need to roam -
Amien street, Spencer dock
And the North wall held
The whole worlds' delights.
And still my world today
Is rainbowed by
The Street.