Magma 59

I am from England! I do not speak Italian nor can I move my arms in
logical formations! Here is my UK! Drivers! Licence! and this other
bit of paper they sent which has been folded in octavo form in my
wallet since I bought the motorino nine months ago, You seem to be
telling me my back tyre is a little flat or that I was driving the
wrong way down the street, your radio crackles out number plates in
Roman dialect, I am very sorry, very sorry! for what I did and will
almost certainly do again, all smiles now, heads nodding, I spending
one winter at Cambridge and learn English, But your English is
marvellous, I am very grateful, do I do the handshakes, a manly
farewell to authority figures, yeah, do it now, fuck it, push it all
the way, and back on the bike and move off nice and slow.