Stealing Woodbines And Sneaking Scrumpy

14

Stealing Woodbines,

From Gateway,

On holiday,

In Devon,

My parents pushing the trolley,

(And my siblings)

About,

The most daring of raids,

The boldest steal I ever made,

She's bent down checking stock,

My puffer-Jacketed arm,

Stretches illicitly into the kiosk,

In full view of anyone who would look,

The cigarettes,

which I can't see,

Ninety to forty-five degrees beyond vision,

Teeter at the tips of my fingers,,

I'm crapping myself,

On pure adrenaline now,

Clumsily I knock a pile over,

And one box of pure nicotine promise,

Finds it's way into my grasp,

My hand shoots back,

Recoils,

And in slow motion, it seems,

Some boxes fall to the floor,

Inadvertently creating a distraction,

As I thrust the box,

Into the stonewashed cargo trousers pocket,

Don't dare look,

And half run

To the safety of the toilets,

To inspect the spoils.

Incredibly, she never looked round.

Woodbines!

I had never before smoked a filterless fag,

I am so surprised I almost leave them there,

Dump them in the cistern,

But I am thrilled,

At my ill gotten gain,

And my daring,

Elated and guilty,

And only half ashamed,

So I keep them.

Spiting out course grains of tobacco,

Walking through the heather,

My brother and I hereafter,

The world is my oyster,

I have conquered the system,

I am high,

Until my brother says,

He will tell on me,

And I beg,

And cry,

And wail,

And throw my haul overboard

Privately returning and  searching later on,

To no avail,

And later still,

In the caravan,

Mum and dad sat outside,

Daniel in the awning,

I stealthily lift the seat to reveal,

The rusty brown bottle,

Of rat gut enhanced 

'Sillyider',

I see the cider,

I got high,

On a sip or two,

Not knowing, 

This was just a foretaste,

Of things to come,

I stand on the shore,

With my family,

While the surf,

Brings the foaming waters of adolescence,

Cascading over my green flash feet,

And the pull of the tide,

Of adult discovery,

Beckons,

Tempts seductively,

To pull me back with it,

To the tainted and altogether deeper waters of manhood,

With all its excitement,

And disappointment,

My heart is on the brink now,

But is in truth,

Already won,

Has crossed the line,

And innocence remains,

With Rachel,

And with Mum.

M. Joseph Burt   (26.6.6)