It has always been considered easy to find a book addict known to be in a certain area. You might find him in the pub of course, but sooner rather than later you will find him in the nearest bookshop. You won’t need much patience. But book collecting can often lead to strange situations. A few years back when we were living in Armidale, N.S.W., John Fletcher asked me to keep an eye open for slim self published volumes of poetry, nominating any such booklets issued in the area within a certain time frame. He wasn’t astray. I found quite a few in bookshops and news agencies and some of these conformed to his requirements. Then one night I saw a number of likely items in the window of the St Vincent de Paul Society’s shop, dimly lit by a street lamp. The shop was closed of course, but returning…
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September 28th, 2012 at 1:41 am
Lovely as always. As an aside, I occasionally do “Lucretia My Reflection” at karaoke. I’m happy to demonstrate next time you’re in NYC!
September 28th, 2012 at 9:24 am
Provided you’er willing to watch me fall on the ground in a quivering heap, go for it.
September 28th, 2012 at 1:42 am
And I am an idiot. I commented on the wrong post! I meant to comment on the post in which Sisters of Mercy were mentioned. Not that this is not a nice post as well. I’ll stop now…