WITHOUT / they make do

Men without Boats

Without

Men without cars
walk steel-toed
into the factory.

Without any
thought for tomorrow
their jackets are shoved
into lockers.

They toil without
gloves so their fingers
can feel a burred edge.

Blue pigeons nest in the rafters.
Without making noise
they appear to be dead.

Workers grumble about
the high cost of gas
and the owners new car,

then without losing count
they smile and talk about
fishing for flatheads.

Without any boats
they will fish from the shore,
build punky fires
after mid-night
and drink without
losing hope.

NOTE: I hope my poem can stand on its own, WITHOUT explanation.