Auntie Em - what was it like when you grew up?
By jagmucker
- 2261 reads
Child, we were not big brothering ourselves
and we did not sit in darkened rooms
attached to strange machines
that offered worlds of escape
we were escaping
always escaping all the time
Ask my mother then
standing in the kitchen clicheing potatoes
Where are your children?
Out there somewhere - they'll be back for tea.
they call this neglect now
the gravel in knees from our BMX sliding stops
the scars from toppled football posts
and accidents with concrete blocks
and air rifles
air rifles
we just loved air rifles
the splinters in our hands form illegal entry into abandoned buidlings
the sign 'DO NOT TRESPASS' whcih we translated as 'COME IN'
on missions to steal gnomes
breaking the glass in greenhouses with stones
setting the parrots of our enemies free
bonfires, there was a lot of burning
we knew that the keys to our school briefcases
were great in the locks of old houses
and that roofs were for sitting on
big rocks for hurling ourselves off
the sea wall at high tide a temptation we couldn't avoid
and we did this uncaptured
we did not film our exploits
and post them
or share them
we did not even brag about them much
because we wanted to keep on doing this stuff
we had work to do
serious work
we were kleptomaniac vandal ninjas
on missions of destruction
we were mini anarchists
rebels with no causes
See my brother's best friend's little brother
posted lookout on a corner
so they could skateboard down perpendiculars
into the main road
and straight into A & E
the nurses at A & E were our friends.
Do not believe them when they say 'kids these days - it's all hoodies and ASBOS'
they called my cousins the Viet Cong
Where've you been?
Outside.
What have you been doing?
Nothing. I'm so bored mum.
the perfection of the pout and the shuffle, the moan
our perfidiousness honed to perfection.
Children, you need to lie more
you need to document your doings less
you need to leave the house with nothing in your pockets
lose your mobile
unshackle yourself from portable technology
don't let them track you
don't let them tame you
you have a mission to perform
you have serious work to do
you need to leave the house with nothing in your pockets
except a knife
a screwdriver
and some matches
Never leave home without matches.
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Comments
Absolutely love this,
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this is a really good poem.
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Yay, cherry! Well done and
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A great read, deservedly
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Totally agree. A very well
the CLUELESS COLLECTIVE'S magazine is now a blog:
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This is our Poem of the Week
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This really sums up our
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