No, not the school playground game of 'tag' –
That marginally less aggressive version of 'British Bulldogs'
Where whoever was slow and out of favour:
Inevitably the 'swot',
Was condemned to a playtime purgatory
Of so near yet so far
And put out of his misery
Only by the bell.
No, not that 'it'.
Not even the girls in the 20s,
Screen-testing upon countless casting couches
To establish whether or not they had 'it' -
Or at least enough of it
For a slot on the chorusline.
No, that's not the 'it' I'm on about.
The 'being it' that bugs me
Is the motorbike morons
And scooter cock-a-snooters
Parading their 'Look at me: I'm it' shit
At an ear-splitting, baffles-out volume
Even a heavy metal rocker would have a problem with,
Helmetless at a hundred mph or more
In a sleepy village where kids still play out of doors..
Feel like an old fart making mention of this,
But it seems life has become a one-sided coin:
Heads their 'right' to do just as they please
Tails an empty space for 'responsibilities'.
NB. Please note I have nothing against bikers - they are mostly great people relaxing with the wind in their hair, but rather it is the teenage poseurs with the 50cc bee-in-a-bottle at full throttle that get my goat.
Tony Jolley
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/being-it/
