for my brother
On Sundays when we were younger
we drove to the shopping centre
in your 1977 Celica Mustang and smoked
the tyres in the back car park and played
We Can’t Be Beaten, loud as the stereo would go.
And then we’d spin each other
in shopping trolleys, until our eyes hazed over
and the sky was a kaleidoscope of blue and grey —
it was the only thing to do on Sundays.
Remember? You would tell me, you wanted to pull down the sky.
I could see, your eyes were already full of it.
A fine poem of rememberance…has a warm tone to it.
Thanks SLP. They were simpler times…
Nice one GN, those Sundays misspent in youth were fabulous. Tennis in the morning, rebellion in the afternoon, pub or youth club at night.
Mine were a couple of decades earlier, the musical theme was Dylan, Stones and Who (The not Dr).
Dr was Saturday.
The cars were death traps, but not as dangerous as your trolleys, I’d reckon.
but Oh! those jackets in the clip – I want at least three of them!
I wish I still had my parka.
Angry’s sure got style! My brother’s car was (still is) a death trap… he nearly put us over the edge of Mt Gravatt mountain once (or twice?). But the thought of those Sundays still makes me smile…
Bwahahahaha! Gotta love an anthem and a silly car (celica). Sometimes it’s like I remember the cars from the good old days more than the people. Good one Graham.
My brother and I did some crazy things in that car… good times for sure!
the song put me right there, my brother and i used to do crazy things with the car too, also a mustang, but i dont know what model, it had red leather seats ha ha and a convertible top, really great times flirting with danger but what fun! and your poem has such love in it, very cool
wonderful recalling of youth…
and haunting last line..
Just listened to acadacca’s Back in Black on my drive home and now I’ve read this poem – I knew there was something I liked about you Mr Nunn. Cars and power rock, they truly are the staples of a well spent youth, no?
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