Kids swarm like flies to the sweet shop
round the corner. “Two at a time,”
or so the notice says. Pissing
in the wind – him that owns it;
none of ‘em can count...
let alone read.
Clutching at her ‘wand’, a loo-brush
tied with tinsel, a fairy-queen emerges
from number ninety-three...wings
of the ‘Finest’ cling-film type
aquiver in the wind.
‘Flowers’ in her hair – ‘daisies’
of the Kleenex tissue kind, complete
with jazzy cardie – buttoned up
all wrong; flimsy, cotton dress –
bow untied.
Her twin-sister by her side
makes a bee-line for her wand,
as they both stand – mouths agog,
chewing gum.
The boys make mischief
with an old, down-pipe...pilfered
from a tip just down the road.
The biggest one totes it,
rifle-style
The filthy rotten scum!
If they ain’t careful...right,
he’ll blow their brains out...right,
in a calculated, random kind
of torture.
Catcalls ricochet off scrawled-on walls.
A little one's nicked a bike; just down
the street, it collides – broadside
with a tree. They laugh –
he cries; until the fairy
wipes his eyes...blows his nose.
“Who needs daisies anyway?”
she says, which makes him giggle,
as tiny feet jiggle in fluffy, pink slippers;
Mister Nasty pictured on the toes.
“Bastards!” she yells to no one special –
spins, full circle – kicks the air,
karate style. Blows a kiss in a bubble
at her sister.
Comments
Highhat | January 29, 2011 - 16:35
This is really good Tina. So vivid and descriptive. Those scally wag children. It's really very sweet. A lovely poem. Is it a memory or imagination? Sounds as though you were there.
;)Pia
Silver Spun Sand | January 29, 2011 - 16:45
Hi there, Pia...thanks for reading.
I was 'brung up' on one of the first 'high-rise' council estates in South London, during the late fifties, early sixties...so I guess that about answers your question;-)
Mind you, from where I was living, it was like moving to a palace; sharing a bedroom with your mum and dad when you're going on ten years old wasn't much fun.
Glad you enjoyed.
Tina
skinner_jennifer | January 29, 2011 - 18:54
Hi Tina,
I had a funny feeling it was a memory, you sound
like you come from the same era as me, those
memories are mine aswell.
I think we were the right age to go through those
times, not to grown up, but still children with
the imagination to invent our own world. It was
hard times for our parents, but we never knew any
different, so I don't know about you, but I have
fond memories, thankyou for jogging them, mind you
they don't need much jogging if you know what I
mean! 'ha, ha.'
Thanks for the read.
Jenny.
Silver Spun Sand | January 29, 2011 - 18:59
I know exactly what you mean, Jenny. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink...say no more, squire!!
Glad you enjoyed and thanks for telling me.
Tina;-)
insertponceyfre... | January 29, 2011 - 21:32
this is so full of life Tina - I love the boy's bragging especially - it's a very authentic voice. Well done
Silver Spun Sand | January 29, 2011 - 21:58
Thanks, insert. Pleased you enjoyed;-)
Tina