Max A memory stirred there thanks Max -as a teenager I used to work at a
grocers and one of my jobs was weighing out broken biscuits _got to the
stage where I could do a Lb exactly without a scale -another job which was
interesting was sorting eggs and seeing if any floated (bad)-as a child we
could get stale rolls buns at bargain pocket money prices
Oops you are stirring up too many memories P
And I hanker after shillings -threepenny bits halfpennies florins some
lovely words gone except to ancients like us
-----Original Message-----
From: Poetryetc: poetry and poetics [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On
Behalf Of Max Richards
Sent: 10 December 2014 16:58
To: [log in to unmask]
Subject: 'Crumbs'
Crumbs
My barista serves me latte-
to-go, bags my sultana
scone, saying
Mind the crumbs -
unless you're feeding
birds. - Oh, crumbs?
They feed my nostalgia.
Child with a shilling -
good biscuits were
unaffordable,
the grocer might offer
you instead, cheap,
in a plain bag,
broken biscuits that he'd
gathered up while
unpacking and repacking
all those varieties.
A child could walk home
slowly sampling half a
ginger, half a choccy,
half a raisin, fractions
of malt, oatmeal, wafer,
macaroons,
descending to the crumbs,
upending the bag
to half a handful
of mere smithereens.
As he reaches his
front gate, he can
inflate the bag, crush-crash
it between his palms -
bang, dry powder
flies from the wreck.=
|