No, not the school playground game of 'tag' – <br />That marginally less aggressive version of 'British Bulldogs' <br />Where whoever was slow and out of favour: <br />Inevitably the 'swot', <br />Was condemned to a playtime purgatory <br />Of so near yet so far <br />And put out of his misery <br />Only by the bell. <br />No, not that 'it'. <br /> <br />Not even the girls in the 20s, <br />Screen-testing upon countless casting couches <br />To establish whether or not they had 'it' - <br />Or at least enough of it <br />For a slot on the chorusline. <br />No, that's not the 'it' I'm on about. <br /> <br />The 'being it' that bugs me <br />Is the motorbike morons <br />And scooter cock-a-snooters <br />Parading their 'Look at me: I'm it' shit <br />At an ear-splitting, baffles-out volume <br />Even a heavy metal rocker would have a problem with, <br />Helmetless at a hundred mph or more <br />In a sleepy village where kids still play out of doors.. <br /> <br />Feel like an old fart making mention of this, <br />But it seems life has become a one-sided coin: <br />Heads their 'right' to do just as they please <br />Tails an empty space for 'responsibilities'. <br /> <br /> <br />NB. Please note I have nothing against bikers - they are mostly great people relaxing with the wind in their hair, but rather it is the teenage poseurs with the 50cc bee-in-a-bottle at full throttle that get my goat.<br /><br />Tony Jolley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/being-it/
