The Rendcomb Magazine, May 1975 - The Old Rendcombian

One small step for man across the sun-spangling river, the orderly blocks have been shuffled about, the office buildingshave become dockyards, a warehouse, the favourite store replaced by two hundred thousand spare Cadillac hubcaps.This is Manhattan‟s vast pumping heart, the aerosol cream, anchovy pizza, all enter its bloodstream here.As one looks down on this great city, one can sense life; the docks pump, the people circulate, the office workers thinkand digest, and finally any of the excreta is pumped back into the air and water. It must be good to be American!FACESPeter Haynes (Form IV)Biconcaved cigarette,Squeezed till its tobacco spews.Long ploughed forehead,Angled eyebrows,Like grand plumes they flower and curve.Rolling lower lip,Like a Hawaii breaker, it clasps the filter.Averted nostrils flameAs he puzzles over fourteen across.Looks up.The forced grin spreads,As of a person about to vomit happily.The eyelids flutterAnd splash their cochineal about the cheeks.The mouth gives a nervous explosion,The jaw takes maximum stress,And the eyeballs step out of the dark.Finally, all defences broken,The face is that of a cowering dog.25