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
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