This used to be
my neck of the woods.

Adolescence discovered
me here.

The same car park
is still to be seen

where I would do
all my necking.

It was 'treeish'
on that side

helping to conceal
all greedy gropes
all ilicit feels.

Furtive kisses
steaming up my glasses.

But the best
place to hide

was inside
our front door porch.

Dad never stopping
to think

that here
(right under his nose)

we would get up
(what we would get up to)

when we did the things
we would do.

Loving on the edge.

Dónall Dempsey

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/loving-on-the-edge/