ADULTS ONLY
Posted: Sat Jul 09, 2011 9:57 am
ADULTS ONLY
He was barely thirteen and the hormones were raging,
and he wondered just what was within.
He’d noticed a stream of men entering there,
some young ones, some old ,fat and thin.
It’s not easy these days for a young bloke, I reckon
their growing up comes with some pain.
They do the hard yards, the bright city lights beckon
though inside the young boy remains.
He crossed over the street and he stood at the window,
not that too much from there he could see.
the windows were coated, not easy to peer through,
inside everything looked hazy,
but as the door opened he spotted a figure
inside – she was quite indistinct.
Inflatable Mabel was wearing red shoes.
Held a sign that was written in ink.
I am reading your palm and your future I’ll tell
if you ply me with silver and gold.
It’s like winning the lottery if you purchase me
for I’m then yours to have and to hold.
As he peeked open mouthed this old fellow came out,
string bag bulging with lettuce and peas,
spring onions and bean sprouts and brown paper packets.
As he followed the footpath he weaved.
Once again the door opened, and he slipped inside
and he tried his best then to look older,
he wandered the store with a quite manly stride
till he felt a soft tap on his shoulder.
“Are you over eighteen sir?” this soft voice enquired
“for if not I must ask you to leave.
This shop is restricted by law to Adults
and I don’t want your Mum to be peeved.”
He blushed and he stuttered and said he would go
and he took another look about.
The things that he saw there he couldn’t believe,
they were hard for him to figure out.
He thought that Inflatable Mabel was grinning
as he exited through the door,
but perhaps she’d developed a slow leak, deflating
her vinyl lips. Pouting no more.
Outside all seemed normal, the weather was cooling.
Signs of precipitation about.
The cloudscape had changed; he heard a roll of thunder
a big storm was coming no doubt.
He climbed on his pushbike and pedalled like fury
no satnav required to get home.
He thought that he might just go and watch cartoons
on telly – he was home alone.
Maureen Clifford © 07/11
He was barely thirteen and the hormones were raging,
and he wondered just what was within.
He’d noticed a stream of men entering there,
some young ones, some old ,fat and thin.
It’s not easy these days for a young bloke, I reckon
their growing up comes with some pain.
They do the hard yards, the bright city lights beckon
though inside the young boy remains.
He crossed over the street and he stood at the window,
not that too much from there he could see.
the windows were coated, not easy to peer through,
inside everything looked hazy,
but as the door opened he spotted a figure
inside – she was quite indistinct.
Inflatable Mabel was wearing red shoes.
Held a sign that was written in ink.
I am reading your palm and your future I’ll tell
if you ply me with silver and gold.
It’s like winning the lottery if you purchase me
for I’m then yours to have and to hold.
As he peeked open mouthed this old fellow came out,
string bag bulging with lettuce and peas,
spring onions and bean sprouts and brown paper packets.
As he followed the footpath he weaved.
Once again the door opened, and he slipped inside
and he tried his best then to look older,
he wandered the store with a quite manly stride
till he felt a soft tap on his shoulder.
“Are you over eighteen sir?” this soft voice enquired
“for if not I must ask you to leave.
This shop is restricted by law to Adults
and I don’t want your Mum to be peeved.”
He blushed and he stuttered and said he would go
and he took another look about.
The things that he saw there he couldn’t believe,
they were hard for him to figure out.
He thought that Inflatable Mabel was grinning
as he exited through the door,
but perhaps she’d developed a slow leak, deflating
her vinyl lips. Pouting no more.
Outside all seemed normal, the weather was cooling.
Signs of precipitation about.
The cloudscape had changed; he heard a roll of thunder
a big storm was coming no doubt.
He climbed on his pushbike and pedalled like fury
no satnav required to get home.
He thought that he might just go and watch cartoons
on telly – he was home alone.
Maureen Clifford © 07/11
)
is she telling about that area in the valley that is much the same as Kings Cross.
