! Teenager Seen From Above Poem by Michael Shepherd

The teenager around the house,
confronted with the suggestion that
God smiles on him, would be
rabbit-stunned beyond reaction;

but, inspect him thoroughly from toe
to top (leaving aside his as yet
creditable carbon footprint; cash-strapped
is carbon-friendly) :

the trainers, sweat-made in the Third World,
now look as if they’re back there; they’ve been known
to walk out of the room from under the bed
in sheer self-disgust;

the forever jeans, customised with
a designer rip just above the knee,
are of that subtle shade
where worn meets dirty;

the ‘top’ – at least there’s some hint there
of choice; sending out coded messages
which groan-ups cannot read; could be
footie with the boys; or could even be
let’s sleep together, no big deal..
we’ll just have to wait and see, or guess;

the face, now: that gets little attention
first thing in the morning; but in the evening
it’s a different ball-game; Mum’s facial things
have even been known to be employed
when rumblings of an imminent socio-visual
eruption threaten;

but, the hair… thirty, twenty years ago
if someone his age took this long at the mirror,
we’d either be considering counselling,
or buying him Judy Garland records…

eventually, he’s out from there; the immaculately
tousled gleaming wildness is a sennight’s
tribute to the week’s Top Ten…

angels, passing over, smile to themselves
at the view from above; murmur at
what a well-groomed lot the
humans are these days.

Maybe it’s time to haul out
Great-Granma’s hand-stitched
sampler from the loft, and put it back
in the downstairs loo, where
we used to think it such a joke
in our first-house years –
‘God Sees All'...