Holiday Romance Poem by Jean Bernard Parr

there's nobody on the streets unpale
except Kirsty and Kiley who
went to Bali, whose boyfriends
said shall we and why can't we
all with uncrisp hems now kerbing
sugar enriched kids to circle
the lame pushchair, the one
with the dodgy wheel
like wildebeest they are, uncertain
about the rushing waters
that belong to gleaming cars and so
with no clear command to cross
they wheel like gulls and the mums
are locked into their phones
like rocketeers
blood in ears seethes
its a blokes' job to check the oil
and not let the radiator boil