BMX boy in a broken beach town

Originally published in Voiceworks Issue 114: Slug.

Pup churns up knuckly crunch,

numbskulls thumbs up.

Nuns bluffed

by 5 gum chuff.

Church: cut. Mum?

Hung up.

Full brunt surf crust!

Sun’s grumbly buzz, blurry ruckus pumps by lunch. BMX run ups mucus flung at trucks.

Hustle us! Windows up? Pffft

dumb fuck.

Curly fuzz uncut. Untucks, struts,

dunks—dumb luck. Sculls rum, dry

bud crumbs. Clumsy buzz.

Chucks up…

Mum turns up. Run!

Dusk comes. TV’s hushed

over grub: ‘Unruly teens

clutch slum’s guns!’

Grimshaw new haircut.

'Surf club funds cut.'

Curtains shut, headphones

unplugged.

Midnight eye gunk rubbed.

‘Drug cult cuffed.’

‘But Pup...’ Mum juts. ‘Hurtful fun’s dumb, s’nuff drunk stunts...’

Murmurs ‘um,’ puffs butt lungs. ‘Sulk much?’ Mum’s fury huffs!

Pup bucks.