brandon couch

Urban Child


In an unremarkable street
There was a complicated birth.
Which left an urban child
Lying tense and twisted,
Unfit for this straight world.
He sleeps fitfully,
Fists clenched as he squirms.

The child becomes a boy.
One who always takes
The long route to school.
Where geometry teaches him
How some shapes don’t fit in.
No matter how much you bend
Or try to force them.
The boy becomes a teen.
One who knows the shortcuts
To all the pubs.
Where he sits wedged in their corners
Knuckles clenched
Round his pint.

While emotions froth and spill.

The teen becomes a man.
An unwilling father at first
Of another ill-fitting specimen.

Still he holds them gently each night,
Whispering as they squirm,
“It doesn’t matter if you find you don’t fit,
I didn’t and I did just fine.”

Richard Archer

This is a semi autobiographical poem based on Richard’s life, growing up and coming to turns with his own identity and the problems associated with it.

3 thoughts on “IDENTITY: URBAN CHILD

Comments are closed.