Wednesday, 1 January 2014

Terraces

We were there
I never saw many goals
Being the wrong height
But I could always tell
When we scored
Because the surge
Lifted my feet
Depositing me
Several yards away
Oh it was great fun

We stood together
Just to one side
Of our goal
Saw the same faces
In the same places
Got to know them
Knew when someone
Was missing
Spotted strangers
Checked them out

At the end of each game
They would announce
The total attendance
How we laughed
We could tell the truth
By the strength
Of the crush
The smell of sweat
Pies, alcohol and fags
The ache in our arms

I packed it in
Before the barriers
Were erected
Before Hades
Came to Hillsborough
Looking at the pictures
Of the dead and dying
I felt my feet rising
My arms aching
It was no longer amusing

There’s talk now
Of bringing back standing
On an experimental basis
They have bar seats
The latest innovation
Prices could drop five pounds
But I’ll say no thanks
After all it’s not the lack
Of five pounds keeps us away

But the lack of forty.

© David Subacchi


David Subacchi was born in Wales of Italian roots. He is a well known poet in the UK especially in Wales and the North West of England. His English language collection ‘First Cut’ was published by Cestrian Press in 2012.

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