Youth, London
By Alfie Shoyger
- 266 reads
Youth’s a time when magic bounces
through the heart, a heart that trounces
all things monochrome.
Life bubbles like foam
and you roam in flounces.
Youth’s a time to gaze in wonder,
youth’s a time to trip and blunder
through daft episodes,
daydreaming in codes
of exploding thunder.
Yet, at school and college, I heard
nothing sweeter than “Kate’s my bird,
these trainers are Nike,
Dave’s got a shit bike,
he’s just, like, a fat turd.”
Is this dead chaff all humankind
can offer me? When will I find
a heart that thumps fast
and carries me past
the bomb-blast in my mind?
From “Disoccidented” by Alfie Shoyger:
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Disoccidented-Alfie-Shoyger/dp/1999922859
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Comments
Thanks for putting a link to
Thanks for putting a link to this. Very interesting conversation between you and Rhiannon. I am so impressed how you have mastered this, And am grateful to have the opportunity to read a poem with this design as I can't understand Welsh. It's a very thoughtful feeling to it, wistful
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