This is a fraught subject: I have tried to encourage them to form Self-Help
Groups, however they silently resist my exhortations. I used to believe they
had a kind of Trades Union, in which, like the wider world, everything had
its alloted place, unfortunately with hindsight it seems this was nothing
but a front for a numbers racket run by the notorious American gangster
Dewey. I post notices about trips to Improving Lectures on Philosophical
Systems, instead I find surreptitious volumes on anarcho-syndicalism
tripping me over when I rise from slumber, I once succeeded in enticing them
to follow me on an outing to a mediaeval church which housed a huge and
primal silver-chained innumerably great-grandfather of theirs; but his
ancient bellowing and thumping covers frightened them away. I have cajoled,
reasoned, wept,. pleaded, all to no avail.
I no longer know what to do with them. More and more I listen to music:
ah Schnitke, Heinrich Isaac, Gaston Le Roux, in your recesses I find
uncluttered peace. I have heard rumours of a new domestic cleaning services,
called Cameron and Dave, I think, but a well-wisher has cautioned me that
they will solve the problem of my books by my removal from this, warm and
breathing and wary, posed side of the equation.
>
>
> --
> (David) "Dave no more" Joseph Bircumshaw
> "Every old house was scaffolding once/And workmen whistling"
> Website and A Chide's Alphabet
> http://www.staplednapkin.org.uk
> The Animal Subsides http://www.arrowheadpress.co.uk/books/animal.html
> Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/david.bircumshaw
> twitter: http://twitter.com/bucketshave
> blog: http://groggydays.blogspot.com/
>
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