Boys from Brisco Mount were

not expected to be high achievers,

although the brightest

might attend Tech College

and aspire to be fitters

at the biscuit factory.

.

According to general opinion,

we came from a long line

of lower-class no-hopers

and were scheduled,

as a matter of course,

to keep with this tradition.

.

A legend concerning a hapless native

caught defiling a helpless ruminant

led to us all being labelled

with the same tag

and added to the consensus

of inbred ne’er-do-wells.

.

Factory grime was the destiny

of most of us as we left

the school gates for the final time,

which was a better deal

than previous generations,

whose destiny was slum housing,

trench warfare and hunger marches.

.

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