The Great Years

This street, that Greggs,
Before morning registrations;
The burger van on a Friday.
Rain against the windows of Subway

And Colonel Mustard’s
And the café,
And the time my trousers ripped
In the worst possible place.

Saying “fuck it” to Geography
And buying The Shawshank Redemption
For £15.99 in Year 9.
Pushing over a bin a year later.

And the taste of Cherry Airwaves,
And down that alley, smoking
(But not inhaling), and walking around
With that slag.

And the endless trips to Tesco
to buy bread. And throwing that bread
At Jamie Mann
Because there was nothing better to do.

And how there was never anything better to do.
And the sickly-sweet smell of the biscuit factory.