Tourism in Middle England

Bright autumn days are hijacked
by sudden violent showers
that enrage holidaying children

whose listless parents
scour the gaudy local paper for
films and swimming and historical re-enactments.

In the caves of Nottingham
you can lift a scratched lid
on the smell of tanning leather,

while the Saturday girl
squirms in a Robin Hood t-shirt
and counts the hours to her first drink.

“Don’t smell so bad,” the little boy whines
loud, imperious, American,
“You guys don’t give a shit. Assholes.”

She fetches him a clip on the ear
so fast and exact and sincere
they all leave, swiftly, without another word.

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Phil Kingston moved to Dublin in 2006, after several years living as a semi-monk in the attic of the Manchester Buddhist Centre. Nowadays he works as an actor and teacher of Shakespeare, while slowly writing slow plays for love not money.