In soot-stained towns, full of those with soot-caked lungs eating bacon and grime 'n' mug of tea every morning before t' sunrise. That's our ancestors where I hail from, the ones that lived through the glorious Industrial Revolution, and thank god for the tea, because when people started gathering in the rat-infested growing cities to supply themselves as labour, it was the boiling of water to make tea, and the antiseptic tea leaves themselves that stopped much disease, killing off the bacteria - of course beer shares the same ability, among others.
The Industrial Revolution that kept many in the mines and the factories and then killed them. Glorious years, which we look back at through romantisised lens of period dramas full of white frilly petticoats and la di dah voices and intermittent heroes returning from wars, with waxed moustaches, sipping that tea out of fine china on verandahs, because it was always sunny then. Apart from those soaking in the damp mines and cold factories. And people condemned the rise of Communism? What planet were they living on.
the crack of ball
hitting against cricket bat
while down across the town
no apple again this week