Poetry corner

The aggressive crisp – by Brannigan McCoy

some crisps

Crisps. Lethal in the wrong hands.

Thrown in anger like a morning star,
The twang of the crisp shattering on my car door,
What brought on this rage from a normal teenager?
Maybe deep-seated reports of shark attack dangers

For this teenager with crisp-dust strewn on upper lip,
Spouting his anger and losing his grip,
Is shouting some nonsense about ‘frumping some chissle’,
That might not be right but it sounded like drivel

So I halted my journey on route to the Vets,
To collect my vole from having its ears reset,
And alighted my vehicle to step to the curb,
To investigate why this teen is perturbed

And then suddenly thought it was only a crisp,
Thrown from his hand with a flick of the wrist,
No matter why this bile came to me with a frown,
I got back in my car and ran the chap down.

Advertisements


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s