Vole And I 1958 Poem by Terry Collett

Vole was a small kid
wore narrow
wired framed glasses
cropped
mousey hair
piggy eyes.

He sat next
to me in class
smelt of yesterday's
dinner
and last week's
wash.

But I liked him
he was funny
and generous
with his sweets
and the occasional
cigarette
which we would smoke
on the bomb site
in a bombed out house
on the way home
from school.

In class
he was forever
putting up his hand
to answer a question
or be allowed
to go to the bog
if he couldn't
hold on
any longer.

He got into a fight
in the playground
at mid-morning break
with some kid
from another form.

He was
a big ugly kid
with large fists
and curly hair.

Vole got smacked up
but never went down.

He caught the big kid
with a cheeky left
to the big kid's gut.

But then
the prefects came
and the crowd
broke up
and Vole hid
behind me
as the prefects
searched the playground
and only his
heavy breathing
made a sound.