Fairground Boys

Oh, how we hated the fairground boys,
from Dan on the Dodgems
to Tom handing out the Gallery's Toys
They'd arrive in june for two miserable weeks
with their swarthy skin
and precious metals in their teeth.

And their uniform was different from ours
- leather jackets and jeans
with proud oil-stains from uninsured cars.
We'd stand on the sidelines in blazers and caps
watching girls promising
furtive hands in strangers laps.

A heart was broken every day
as Dan from the Dodgems
won bets Tom had to pay.
But still we watched them, open mouthed:
the one on the waltzers
profane priest playing the crowd.

Oh how we hated the fairground yobs:
but – oh to be King of the Waltzers-
not in grammar-schooled jobs.