Low-hanging fruit

To surge, to be part of something

seething, to run where no one runs,

to see men bearing shields fall back

before you, hear above your head

the whack and thrum of rotor blades,

and, as the camera moves in

to frame your close-up, bend and lift

some heavy object which, propelled

by you, will make plate glass explode . . .

 

                                                               Nope,

can’t think why that might sound like fun

to a boy from an estate, with no job,

no dad, no plans, no place to be, and no

immediate prospect of an interesting

though sadly unpaid internship.