Travel barrel on the English Channel. 

Vibrating flesh machine, string, singing songs and television.  Strum hum ti dum. Waiting while I wash wot I’m not wearing.  “Your face is dirty, use a flannel! It’s so bad mate, you need to clean  it. Get one of those little hoovers which run on battery, house  smells, early morning, mouth (*grunt). Hog! The sodin’ vicar is  leaning on the clutch, wearin’ it out. Grovalin’ aroun’ underneath,  at your feet, your well, take a sip, wrong foot, leak… well ‘cos you  like it. Like you own it, when you need it, do you get me? Put  the collar back on! It’s not a fucking ferrite.” Carpig = half car and  half pig… yeah. Like Transformers.

Alex Paxton