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The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
(In a Station of the Metro - by Ezra Pound)
This was posted by me three years ago and I must admit to really missing my old class and lecturer from then. At least I felt alive and animated, whereas now I am surly and closed off. Take no notice - as I mentioned before, I had no sleep, then 3 hours, then woken up by post, calls and I think the world and his wife wanted my attention at midday today. back to chipping away until my mind goes blank.
* mumble, grumble, crumble*
Later
Alas, it all came to nowt as Prodigal 2 announced that he needed to get to the job centre to sign on toot sweet, or we wouldn't be able to get rent out of him this week. Just not my day. Too dozy now to carry on, so I am taking my Kindle to bed to listen to David Suchet reading Tom Sharpe's Blott on the Landscape. Very early night of rme, but night all :-)
