The Life of Jamie: Part 1

Straigt outta Bournemouth

 

Down south near Bournemouth,

that’s where Jamie started,

little town called Westbourne,

he needed to depart it.

His parents had money,

bought a house by the beach,

Dad was busy most days

so Mum clung on like a leech.

His friends were limited,

to the ones she could trust,

no smoking or tattoos

and manners were a must.

 

He learnt to be alone,

trapped in his own zone,

outside with the beach,

his feet tickled with sea foam.

Rarely people to play with,

 so he’d plug in his headphones,

sit back and look around,

at the place he called home.

 

Fake tans and faded post cards,

on misty beachfronts,

toned stomachs of cougars,

always on the hunt.

Their prey the pallid puddles,

of doughy flesh on the sand,

most of them married

but gladly take their hand.

 

Obese striped suits with

g-strings clinging on,

7 ice cream shops and

hobos singing songs

accompanied by oboes,

from the rusty bandstand

where 7 bald Stans

play for 7 blonde Pams.

 

‘So f*****g stupid’ Jamie mumbled

 

 

He was allowed out at night,

if Mum was on the porch,

pastel novel in one hand

and in the other a torch.

 

He sat on the shore,

wet sand on his shorts,

no music this time,

just the sound of the sea.

But the tides beat was stilted,

by the groans of another,

Jamie checked the house,

but couldn’t see the face of his mother.

Buried in the book,

he took his chance,

and had a look.

 

Under the pier he saw it,

the orange and white,

one tanned and on top,

one just out of sight.

Just his pale legs,

quivering underneath his.

He was shivering and scared,

not hard to miss.

The waves ripple a soundtrack,

as their hot hands circled

n*****s then massage smooth backs,

his legs hung like a cripple,

then shook as he kissed,

all over his chest,

‘Oh f**k you’re the best!’

 

That was all Jamie saw,

he would've watched the rest,

but Mum grabbed his shoulder and

with eyes smouldering,

told those ‘f*****s’ what’s best.

Author's Note

Looking to turn this into a long sort of parable like story, if you've ever heard the song Dance with the Devil it's basically gonna be that but written by a bi white dude.