Poem 308 – Aaron

3 ft. tall,
8 yrs old,
Spike through ear,
Hair gelled up,
Ridge along skull,
Reads the sport,
Shoves his m8,
Laughs @ gurls
Wishes for a iPad,
Wishes to get off.
Knows all the footie flags,
“Don’t know where the mumble mumble is.”
“Wither do you go?” I say to the chad,
“We’re going to the opera house” Aaron replies.


Dear readers,

About a week and a half ago I was taking a train to London when I sat next to a young child. Having spent an hour travelling with him, I thought he was reasonably well behaved, and quite sweet, but ultimately rather uncouth. Since he seemed nice enough, I thought I’d help him locate London landmarks. My brief conversation with him, however, revealed how one should not judge from appearances, and I am very glad to have spoken with Aaron.

Kind regards,

The Hapless Neo-Romantic

P.S. I am, I hope, less of an arsehole than this rather simplified history suggests!


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