Flick-Dick Poem by GRANT FRASER

Flick-Dick!
the secondary
school girls called him..

When his peppery
swept back hair
flopped down,
he flicked it back,

I was class clown
around this time,
little good for anything,

A little bravado, daring,
brought on by a boredom for Math,
there were few roads
for me to trod down,

I was bordering on useless,
had only just made friends,
and most girls in my year
appeared to be so strong willed,

So I played goat in his class,
and detention was more than often,
a lunch break prison, for the day,

but I nipped into library sometimes,
or acquired pulp fiction, or horror
books filled with promiscuous sex,

I remember these Giant crabs,
and the protagonist on a boat
repeatedly stripping a sweaty girl down
in the engine room,
" she peeled them off,
while he throbbed and throbbed, "

Flick- Dick would eat his sandwiches,
and read through his papers,
then every once in a while,
would smirk a little, or even smile,
(my apologies for farting in
your lunch-box)

It's true he was so religious,
he took R.E.and God was for him,
everywhere, watching, judging,
apprehending, measuring, taking notes,
but to me it sounded more like an evil eye,

School came to an abrupt finish
for me in 1980, and I knew the score,
Flick-Dick lost the plot more and more,
but not because of me,
there was a plenitude of idiots,

I wish I could been different back then,
but I had to put up with so many bullies,
or keeping myself in check,
for appearing sort of comical was all I knew,
And I think Flick-Dick was on the run too..