Crocodile by Colin Herd

the brackish smell takes me back
to my childhood. which in itself is
part of the

swallowing the urge to snap,
i spent hours and hours everyday
just watching people’s ankles

both feet off the ground for the
serve, and then back in view,
balancing on a balletic toe,
before shunting off in the
other direction

better the player the bigger the
thrill. it’s mesmerising. And

all you can see is the shoes and

you should try watching live tennis
your belly prodded with twigs
like, when i used to skulk around
the river bank, just next to the

however much they convince
me that poplin check is the way to
go forward, i doubt they’ll ever eradicate
my sock and trainer fascination

the rippling dimples of the grip

at one time i might have been a total
sucker for aertex. but i’ve been taught
since and have more sophisticated tastes.


Date: 2014

By: Colin Herd (1985- )

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