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