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Showing posts from December 12, 2015

Little shows at the Philanthropic

Person liked to come around and see Helen Franklin's little shows at the Philanthropic. He liked the soft rattle of their wooden instruments and their plucky accouterment. He liked to tell the other Auxiliary, The chairs might be hard but the coffee's deep. He'd stopped at the Tartlette afterwards. He might have some cake or a tart and sit at the counter with his white porcelain plate his shiny fork listening to the idle talk of some foul economist and crazy astronaut. If he was lucky he might even see Helen sitting there in the back after she had changed. She liked to have a glass of red wine and watch the round clock from the end of the counter.
Helen writes these lamentable vignettes that are really fragile and skittish. Yet they sing to him from tough lines like overdun roses that resonate very deeply. Sometimes in August or September when the weather's being short and he's set in a particularly dipsy mood then from his seat in the odeum with the Philanthropic…