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these days i fill my lungs with smoke to insulate my brain and consider the londoners who i haven't seen in far too long. michael with his spitting essex accent and juliet who michael says 'sounz welfee' telling me to put a kettle on and then complaining when i leave the tea bag in the mug. "i like it strong to the last drop" i insist and they call me a 'daft bint' and michael says that if all yanks made tea like i do then it's no wonder we were willing to throw it in the harbor. we all take our tea in different shades. and they can tell just glancing at the cup that i've over-poured the milk. they seem to always consider hue those londoners who know their nuances. afterall they were raised beneath shades of grey. perhaps i see more delicately, too.
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Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 11:15 PM UTC
a love letter to some londoners
these days i fill my lungs with smoke to insulate my brain and consider the londoners who i haven't seen in far too long. michael with his spitting essex accent and juliet who michael says 'sounz welfee' telling me to put a kettle on and then complaining when i leave the tea bag in the mug. "i like it strong to the last drop" i insist and they call me a 'daft bint' and michael says that if all yanks made tea like i do then it's no wonder we were willing to throw it in the harbor. we all take our tea in different shades. and they can tell just glancing at the cup that i've over-poured the milk. they seem to always consider hue those londoners who know their nuances. afterall they were raised beneath shades of grey. perhaps i see more delicately, too.
j-carroll
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Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 11:15 PM UTC
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