posted on April 2, 2008 at 8:52 pm

the intensity of the undergrowth
in its mauves and purples
running through the sandbanks giggling
me and russell
smoking roaches from the “bag of butts”
my choicest collection of fine pot dog ends
rivers wind to the sea and salt flies in the breeze
i cant get a fix on this
are we olde guys or youngmen
are we kidsagain?
wheres john? russell bursts out laughing
wheres dad?
a seagull in the mournful sky
its early morning
raining ever so slightly
i stifle a shudder
and i shiver
some reason we must be here
time follows its meandering course
mornings boil away
afternoons fade
nights lose their darkness
in this hinterland
a delta
forests threaten in the green distance
in the other direction the sea pounds the shore
remember those kids in lyneham? russell says
the ones with the rundown house and all the pets?
yeah….i say unenthusiastically
what about em?
he begins recounting a tale
there was gengey n bengey n simmo n the abbot twins
there was an air rifle n fireworks
there was bikes and chucking rocks
there was yabbies and someones dad
there was a copper and a broken window
there was catholic kids from st johns
there was those 2 sisters live opposite the school
there was a headmaster and a caning
“lift your hand up boy!”
pain in your arm
down your spine
in your balls
pain travelling all over body
try not to cry russell
try not to cry steven
hours later your hand still glowing
the dogs were chasing us, sir
simmo chucked his ice cream at me, sir
i went home to get changed , sir
my mothers gonna wrote a note for me tomorrow, sir
outside the school the bullies are waiting
punch punch in face
fight back
god it tires you out so fast
run then
kids chasing me all the way home
baying for our blood russell
quickly in the door
the sounds of the other kids fade
mums cooking dinner
johns watching tv
what you boys up to? says mum
nothing mum we said
the tale ends
the overcast sky still looms large
the dunes
the vegetation
the undergrowths lovely colours
is this heaven ? i wonder
i turn around and russell is gone too
only me and some seagulls
eternal day
detached from my loneliness
wandering along alone

31 Responses to “diary of a fifty something renaissance man plus bricklaying tips”

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