Matthew Conrad

May 15, 1986 - Ostrowiec Świętokrzyski

jailbait

i hate these moments - i can't recover from them
for a few hours -
casually walking to the convenience store -
turn the corner - four of them appear -
summer holiday yummy-crawlies -
you wouldn't expect to find them walking
the streets on a tuesday ten to ten p.m...
already practicing for the night clubs
and drunken fridays -
showing off bone and curve -
sussing out the pundits -
well... they would start early - how old?
not enough to buy alcohol -
singing along to the music
in the convenience store about a boy - yadda yadda:
generic lyrics - giggling like all schoolgirls do
when they escape the uniform and wear
what they like... eyes like darts -
god given two replaced with about three more pairs...
and a makeshift bird on their shoulder -
with a c.c.t.v. plug-in extension...
4... i counted four...
even i have my dermatological problems:
if they looked closer they'd see that
belzeebub took a shit on my face
and i'm sometimes squeezing maggot juice
from my face...
moderately dressed...
em... nothing spectacular...
grey shoes, dark denim...
o.k. the shirt was quality -
large checkers -
grey and dark blue and purple and green
and yellow...
but the material... ooh... soft as baby bottom powder /
flour... worn loose -
so: KLATA JAK U PIRATA...
(a chest like a pirate's - hairy)...
beard... missing moustache...
and a full crop of hair trimmed -
given how my paternal grandfather looked?
i'm not going to lose any hair on the cranium...
6ft2... 242pounds...
i just vaguely remember being watched...
jean-paul sartre said something akin to this...
to be is to be seen...
such bashful voyeurism: my my,
i never!
it is sometimes evident when you're being
watched... esp. if there are four
jailbait teen girls doing it...
i'm 33... i'm no age similar pop star sensation...
one split from the group and followed me...
three blocked my exist pass...
i just stood there before the altar
of beer: becks... heineken... sure as shit
i'm not going for the cider...
coordinated attack:
i had to look at them... they made me look at them...
yeah... 15 year old... tight trousers...
full make-up...
yes if i was a dad i'd say that i spawned
a bunch of pretty girls...
target practice... that's all it ever was...
give it two more years and they'll get
the freebie pass to the nightclubs...
the guys? well...
if they're "lucky" there will always be a Lucy
who's ambitions was to become a striptease
dancer... who'd let guys kit-kat her in
the bushes in the park (kit-kat?
em... four fingers... in...
while snogging)...
such was the folklore...
but come on... jailbate?
somewhere in the darkest recesses
of my mind... like any man's...
but who's doing the prodding, me?!
i didn't walk to the convenience store
for two bottles of heineken as if i were looking
for a one-night stand...
pack predatory reconnaissance...
unlike men... women learn in packs...
like any solitary creature:
you can sometimes see intentional behaviour...
besides - i just discovered
BOY HARSHER - country girl EP
(opening? motion... you get the idea of what
this scenario looked like with this song
playing in the back of my head)...
again: there's nothing spectacular to be said...
i'm hardly going to the next Ginsberg
contemplating old Walt in a supermarket...
besides... i'm pretty sure that as guys we
did things differently...
youth clubs and snooker -
buying cheap cider from
an asian corner shop - along with some porno mags
(classical - no penetration, just paper statues
of goddesses) -
i wouldn't even dare
to delve into the mind of a teenager girl -
let alone her panties...
esp. if she's accompanied by 3 other
hyena jailbaits... em d'uh... they huddle and giggle...
and some variant of huginn & muninn hybrid
of a c.c.t.v. plug-in extension...
such unspectacular events culminate in
what's later called: the conventional life
of... buying two bottles of beer.
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