Wicked Cahoots

poem by: Carl Halling
Written on Dec 01, 2016

When he made
his first personal appearance
in the dirty alley
on someone else’s rusty bike,
screaming along
in a cloud of dust,
it rendered us all
speechless and motionless.
But I was amazed
that despite his grey-faced surliness,
he was very affable with us...
the bully with a naive
and sentimental heart.
He was so happy
to hear that I liked his dad,
or that my mum liked him,
and he was welcome
to come to tea
with us at five twenty five...
Our adventures were spectacular:
chasing after other bikesters,
screaming at the top
of our lungs
into blocks of flats,
and then running
as our echoed waves of terror
blended with incoherent threats...
“I’ll call the Police, I’ll...”
Wicked cahoots.

 

Tags: happy, love, humor, imagery, wishful,

Add Comment


Christopher Russon commented:
Well written poem.when The tide turns.
Geoffrey Brewer commented:
A vivid and appealing picture of aspects of youth, not always appreciated by us in later life. Great fun

 

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