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Writer's pictureJarlath Busby

Ask For Sprinkles



Ask For Sprinkles

 

A story of two young boys

And the cruel fun we’d poke

The Karma fairy spell’s cast

Now it is not such a joke

 

A pound, boys go get a cone

Back then the summers were hot

Mind the cars, crossing the front

Quick as skinny legs could trot

 

Buckets, spades, lilos stacked high

Candy floss flies in the breeze

Yellaman and dead wasps in the window

We rush in Bertuccelli’s

 

Cathedral of sweet delights

The centrepiece, Mr Whippee

Serving manna from heaven

Armando’s home recipe

 

The lady on tip toes shakes

Piling the cone more and more

Eyes transfixed by her tremor

Scared mine ends up on the floor

 

My friend winks, “Ask for sprinkles”

Smirking, the shakey soul pours

A stream, hundreds and thousands

Cascading onto the floor

 

Back out on the sunlit street

Laughing until our sides split

Greedily gulping ice cream

Lips white, a pair of half wits

 

Now just tastes of shame, verse my

Penitential obsession

Consumed by Catholic guilt

 Beats going to confession!

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4 comentarios


Hindsight - it can eat you up. Great poem .

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17 ene

A nice twist after a nostalgic set up. Well done

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I like the poem because it's only halfway through you realise where it's going. Don't let that Catholic guilt get you!

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Contestando a

Rose thank you for your encouragement.

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