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  1. They descend like a swarm of wasps
    Twisting their bikes at breakneck speed
    Through the Sunday strollers
    Whooping their approach
    Immune to the scowls
    As they barrel past

    Those at the end of the pier
    Hear them coming and turn to watch
    As they skid to a halt and drop their bikes
    Jostling each other to the edge
    Swearing loudly
    Boardies hang from bony hips
    Scrawny chests, acne and skunk-like hair

    They jump, one after another
    Into the water, their yells of victory
    Split the air
    Like triumphant warriors
    As the families surrender the boardwalk