The screaming, this week
From the kids on my street
Has grown so impossibly loud
That I'm forced to retreat
To my bed where I tweak
At my ears feeling weakly and cowed
Seven weeks of this noise
As they fight over toys
That they seem unable to share
As the footballing boys
With most intricate poise
Boot their ball through the fence, not the air
So the quiet air rebounds
With the somnolent sounds
Of a child rape or murder at least
Not a metre of ground
Can claim to be found
Without some sort of yodelling beast
Now the dogs join in
With the echoing din
And the gangs out the front doing stunts
On their BMX bikes
Have started a fight
To a chorus of shouts, screams and grunts
Seven weeks until school
Drags them back to the pool
Of illeteracy and covert drug dealing
And I, hiding here
Will yodel and cheer
To be free of their hideous squealing
And to think that before
I did roundly deplore
How brief the school holidays seem when
I will now, evermore
Just be wise to the score
And give praise for the peace here without them By Carey Lenehan
About Carey Lenehan
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