Kicking Joggers Up the Arse

Beneath the bush, I lay in the new dawn
And wait for my first victim of the day.
The morning rain does not make them think again -
They leap from their pits with their trainers on.

They're all fair game. I don't discriminate
Between rich or poor, vile vest or pink velour,
Student teacher, master builder or bailiff.
All small details. It's the jogging I hate.

I hear a novice with his quick short pants.
I see a flash of Hi-Tec and I pounce.
Take the wind out of an air-cushioned a-hole.
Look about me, then return to the manse.

B.R. 28/01/2012