don't forget farthings and half crowns Patrick or even ten bob notes.
>----Original Message----
>From: [log in to unmask]
>Date:
10/12/2014 17:36
>To: <[log in to unmask]>
>Subj: Re: '
Crumbs'
>
>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.=
>
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