It’s just the start of another

Raggedly cold dark and rainy night

No room for stars

As the clan is gathering

The talkers

The scorers

The half-baked scorchers

The midnight tight rope walkers

Jumping and starting for the love

Of something to do

Hoods and would be

Rapped and tapped wannabee’s

Flying and lying their way along

The pavements and the streets

Chatting and chortling

Escorting any giggling jiggling molly

That will let them

These thirteen to fifteen somethings

Kidding shoving and swigging coke

And candy pop

Lit up with lollies and cigarettes

Loud and proud

Among them

Two Jacks one Harry

Snigger at each other

Phones and sounds turned on

Minds tuned out

This time is theirs and nobody else

Because no other body shows a care or stare

At this crew

This troop of

Street crawlers

Of the night