Addy
I don’t really remember much about him
Or where he came from
He seemed to appear one day
Through the smoke of our lives
On the fastest pushbike
The Seventies had ever seen
He was Orford’s Evel Knievel
And we were his buses
All lined up on the field
One by one in front of the ramp
We, the multitude, too numerous to count
Lay on our backs staring skywards
As Addy steadied himself
Two hundred feet away
At the end of our street
I remember him dressed like a Google search
Of the era
Ash dripping from his cigarette hand
Then, the drop, he shot off
Accelerating to the speed of sound
And launching himself over our tiny minds
And into our hearts forever
Thoughts
A nice little trip down memory lane. It’s mad the things you do as kids. Zero health and safety.
Blue Exorcist Guitar.
© John Monaghan 2025. All Rights Reserved
