Their swaggering gait exaggerated
to camouflage their diminutive
stature
Knives chained to trousers
steel capped shoes
ready to clobber
and terrorise with street violence
Inspired wild hounds packed with menacing
fear
They’re drowning in testosterone
fluffy chins, little spots, they think
‘real man’ means vicious yobbo.
As they pass along the street below
seeming not to care
their theatrical adventure throws
aggression in the air
Then all at once their hunger grows
and they sneak back to their lair
‘Wipe your feet’ stops their toes
on the front door mat.
Carefully they fold their clothes
in the basket for the Laundromat
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