Mervyn Linford - Poet   
NATURE - SPIRITUAL - LOVE

 

The Flea Pit    

Saturday morning flicks
   why bother?

The noise was abysmal
   crazy kids
running in all directions

everything imaginable
thrown into the
projector’s beams
usherettes shushing
girls screeching

and poor Flash Gordon
trying his best to be heard
as he faced the unearthly terrors
of space and the evil Ming

the ‘Bash Street Kids’
were nothing compared
   with this lot

sneaking in through the exit
smoking in the toilets
letting off squibs and tuppenny canons

‘Hey Pancho’ – ‘Hey Cisco’
            ‘How!’

Where was Hopalong Cassidy
when you needed him?

Someone to corral the unruly mob -
‘High Noon’ in the ‘Flea Pit’

I remember the ‘Three Stooges’
the sadistic celluloid slapstick
as we rushed to avoid
the ‘National Anthem’

I slapped my irreverent arse
and galloped all the way home
            ‘Hey Tonto’
                        ‘Hi-Yo Silver’
                                    ‘Kemo Sabe’.