Poetry Corner
Cool Gang
BEN FAIRLIGHT
A surly gang of guys, well cool,
Slinks along, hogs the prom –
Seven youths with in-your-face faces
Scuffing their trainers on the shingle spill.
Inflated and scruffy and heading their way,
A spent popcorn packet skims the red tarmac,
Tumbles its silver light-crisps,
Scatters a scratch-mob of homeless street-doves.
The breeze brings bag and gang together.
Will they half-see, stamp on it, spit or wee….
All derisory? When Alpha’s step lands, there’s
No bang nor cheers from his peers.
Instead he grabs it, crumples it, carries it
Home to the next bin along –
All in one stride.
The gang processes. Well cool.
We hope you have enjoyed reading this article. The future of our volunteer led, non-profit publication would be far more secure with the aid of a small donation. You can also support local journalism by becoming a friend of HIP. It only takes a minute and we would be very grateful.



Leave a Reply