SLOW

an aggressively overcast sky
squashes the lifeblood out of the day
grey people drag themselves slothfully along the streets
how does anything ever get done in this country?
does anything get done in this country?
been away for a few days
staying with friends
far from the madding crowd
far from an internet connection
a train ride through cliched rolling green fields
black n white cows and golden hay bales
wafting farmyard smells
that elicit howls of protest from our little treasure
a stroll through a limestone georgian town
the kind of place where they shoot those costume dramas
all tea rooms and freehouses and estate agents
we stop for a warm pint in the lord burley
sit and chat in a tea room under mediaeval timber beams
the sense of history is arresting
after so long living in a country that imploded in 1950
a country that has spent the last fifty years
covering itself in steadily rising layers of concrete
apart from that
fireseed getting bogged down in setting stuff up
a whole lotta dull formalities that take too long
i can't find the phone number
then nobody answers the phone anyway
sorting out a school for OLT
being a typical case in point
i got web addresses galore
but i ain't got no web access
setting up a bank account
and an internet connection
and other whatnots
and blah blah blahs
oh i don't mean to bore ya
and i don't wanna snore ya
it's all part of life's rich pageant, ain't it?
ooh must tell ya
having failed to find any sort of decent bakery
fireseed following in the footsteps of johnny lennon
ordered my very own breadmaking machine
got some in-greedy-ants today
looking forward to some delicious kitchen smells...