mud

had cut out of work  
to go middle-of-the-day driving  
left the boys to it  
headed into the town  
short drive  
said I was going for lunch  
lied  
 
instead my plan was to sit  
outside the grocery store  
and bite down on my 7-days-of-no-smokes tongue  
a kind of pleasure in not breaking  
(a small test fought and won  
is something)  
but anyway  
not important why  
just drove toward town  
came down the low hill  
toward that shaky old-timey wooden bridge  
they would have knocked over years ago  
if less poor people lived there  
 
was following a delivery van  
big slab-sided thing  
probably full of cigarettes  
 
just coming onto the bridge  
saw out the corner of my eye  
movement  
a flicker  
two heads pop up from under it  
only level with the road  
flashflash thumpthump  
young brown arms  
pumping clumps of mud at the truck  
 
saw it all    
had to slap my dashboard with laughter  
“ha fuck, good on you ya young bastards”  
then a moment of realising  
what was coming next  
snarled “fuckers”  
punched the gas  
but nowhere to go  
and too late  
so thumpthump on my passenger door  
“you.little.cunts”  
then grinned anyway  
remembering my own days  
hiding under a bridge  
with a mate  
to throw mud at the world