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This Ole Man, He Plain Dumb
I was sitting on the train out of Poitiers when I heard English — yes, English — being spoken out loud in this most hallowed of not-English places, and I realised it was someone talking on the phone and some devil in me decided well, son, I’ll be recording your Angloid ass, because his voice was sort of calming, which I liked, but also it was putting me to sleep and I wanted to know what he said, because that seemed interesting too. The thing is, I didn’t fall asleep just then, as it just got weirder and more interesting, or maybe I was just tired and stupid and curious as well, and in the end I guess I walked up to him pretending to go to the toilet, which was when I realised I must be sleeping after all, because he wasn’t talking on the phone but delivering a sort of soliloquy, which I’ll just leave here in verse form out of respect for the fuckin’ weird. Transcript courtesy of AI.
It kind of annoys me
when I go into the kitchen
that it always feels
it’s always
I don’t know
I’ve never really thought about it
and when I start to think about it
I always just think it’s just me see
but there’s always this feeling
that it’s not really my my spot
because uh Mister
sits right there with his work
but he never seems
to actually be doing anything
other than scrolling on Facebook
or I don’t know
the movie going on
while he’s…
