Never Trust Swans

The pebble fish asked
if I remembered him
as he casually
waved his fin
in my general direction
I thought a while
before upon my face
developed wide
a smile of recollection
I knew him from
the forbidden boathouse
“No Trespassing!”
it was named
which housed mostly
tyres and old bicycle frames
and provided a romantic
for fumbling teenage games
with girls we knew from
the posh school
up upon the hill
who’d slum it down our way
at times
to catch illicit thrills
and pills and diamond white
fuelled kisses,
lurid entertainment
for the voyeuristic swans
on the cadge
for bits of crust
they’d leave empty beaked
and noisily as if to raise
the alarm
for the countless rules
and bylaws we were breaking
by visiting that very
pebble fish
who asked if I remembered him.


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