In ING bank Katowice. Hoping to poo soon in Poland.

There is a lot of pork in Poland . Some chicken. Very little beef. Sometimes fish. I am not really a meat man. I am fish man. A fish meat man.

Ewa is trying to close her account from two years ago. They take over two pounds a month for nothing. They are trying to convince her not to close . There is a lot of talking in Polish and the woman sounds very official. This has been going in for 20 min. I wonder when the lady will give up and let her close her Polish account. I am glad I am not there speaking broken Polish with my dictionary. It would take a very long time.

I want to release three days of polish kielbasa. Then I want to eat a polish donut . Maybe today we will go to downtown Katowice for real coffee. We have to find a place to buy a bus ticket. Everything is orange here in the ING waiting room. I am not sure about orange. I am learning how to type notes on my iPod in Poland. This us one of the notes. I still don’t have a smart phone. Maybe I will get a smart phone in 2014.

Sent from my iPod 10.41 AM. 27th August 2013.

At PKO Bank  Polski.  Ewa is transferring a building renovation savings toddler scheme into brothers name. It might take longer than ING bank. It is a polish bank. There are a lot of stamps and it is run in the old way . Before the fall of the wall . Or the parting of the iron curtain. I once had a bank account here at Pko bank polski. When I lived in Poland in 2007. In a smallish town called Rynik. One summer rybnik made their own money. It was rybnik money. Rybnik is related to fish in Poland. So it was a kind of fish money. Fishy money.

It took almost an hour to open my bank account at PKO in the little town of Rybnik. There was a lot of stamps and pages and pages of signatures. It was all in Polish of course. I had no idea what the Polish old ladies were saying. It takes a lot of work to do anything official in Poland. It takes even longer in broken Polish.

I ate at a milk bar every day in Rybnik. Meat, potatoes, carrots. Fruit drink with old fruit called Kompot. I like Kompot.

We have left PKO bank and are walking into the estate. The estate is called Manhattan. Two old men just walked by with a pram full of empty cans of beer. They are probably going to sell them to get full cans of beer. Another old man is at a fence cooing at chickens with a little girl. There are mothers on the playground with very tight jeans. They have solarium baked bodies.

Sent from my iPod. 12.59PM. 27th August 2013.

— marcus slease

Published by Marcus Slease

Born in Portadown, Northern Ireland, Marcus Slease has made his home in such places as Turkey, Poland, Italy, South Korea, the United States, Spain, and the United Kingdom – experiences that inform his nomadic surrealist writing. His latest book is Never Mind the Beasts (Dostoyevsky Wannabe 2020).

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