Parka

Parka

Whilst shotgun in Ben’s Grey Vauxhall I think,
My friends just aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.
Ben’s a cunt, that’s for cold hard certain,
I left my parka in his car last week,
And he threw it out, he said it was ‘shit.’
Div and Hugh just laughed, that’s wicked, so rude.
How do you come back from something like that?
Besides I need a lift home, Clacton’s gone grey
And I have no money left for the train.

Hugh’s thumping a Chemical Brother’s tape
Against the stone washed denim on his thigh
And to the tune of that Drum n Bass track,
The one that starts with the superman theme.

Div idly sparks the flint of his lighter.
It’s fluorescent pink with a rectangle
That’s sticky where the label’s been peeled off.
He offers it to me for my Marlborough
But I don’t take it. I’ve been watching him
Crank up the gas so it’ll singe my hair.

The sky’s the colour of the white coffee
You get from the machine at our college
I watch the road, thinking about my parka
Can’t believe you chucked out my favourite coat
Mate, he shakes his head and laughs, it was shit.
At this point Hugh falls for Div’s lighter trick,
Ben giggles so hard he has to swerve the car.
Outside the clouds give up. The wipers screech.