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Wicked Cahoots

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.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
'Wicked Cahoots' has its origins in an unfinished story written around the age of 21 about my childhood in London, which first saw the light of day in versified form in 2006.
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

of prose, that gives a little part of your growing up. I would delete the [less] at the end of [speech] and retain the one at the end of motion. It simply reads better and does not change the results of the line. Nice. ~ Geez.
.

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Yes, a snapshot of my childhood, although I am thinking I might sideline it. It's good to know what's worth keeping, and what should be jettisoned, for my part, I have little idea :) Carl.

author comment

I adore this, wasn't there a bully on every street, I still remember , I never became friends with them, but I absolutely love your points in this, I like the thoughtfulness of having the corouge it would have taken to speak to such a boy and then to realize the welcoming lads attitude, makes one wonder about the time we give to those who look like thugs and so on. I love the imagery I could almost see the faces of pure terror then turning into relief and serenity. I cannot tell you how much I love this work. There was always someone telling on us wasn't there? Nosey neighbors and sometimes they were right.

Thank you...Teddy

Thanks, Teddy, you saved this piece, I was going to put it into my reject file, but will salvage it. I thought it was too 'prosaic' to survive as verse. But I have changed my mind now. This boy was notorious in our area, from the 'wrong side of the street', quite literally, but we became inseparable for a time, he sort mentored me to the point where people were warning my mother about him, but typically (she was very hard-headed), she refused to listen, because she saw good in him, because there was. I am so pleased you like this, and will restore it to the 'first team' as it were. Carl.

author comment

This is a gem my friend, you truly got the whole picture in here, from beginning to end, my most favourite thing about your work it's honest and very relatable , you always bring something to my mind, and memories of old, it must be a London thing.

Thank you...Teddy

A London thing for sure, Teddy, and yes, very honest, torn straight from the heart. Carl.

author comment
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