It is 0800'ish. I was having a tranquil breakfast, Twinings torpidus in fact, suddenly two kindly polite young police knock at the door, waking my little darlin' on the upper floors. There is a bell yes, but energy conscious, they avoid it. I let them in.
They read of Grandad's fate and seem incredulous. They leave to contact other police. Is it that you will not acknowledge your fate, your own part in it, the Davis family shame You will merely say 'non est mea culpa'?
Read my missives to Sophist, don't let Larkin's verse affect you more than you are troubled now and most sickly and unresponsive in your manner, stance and demeanour, even a little rude when challenged actually, leaving important notes uncollected, unread. Don't you owe Grandad and Grandma anything?
Your family owes them a great deal mon ami.
Message to Mrs Marie N Davis, your Caligulaesque mother
Read on and very quickly abandon your nonsense, for:
‘Ye shall witnesseth fire nigh on engulfing you; now it devours the currency notes strewn on the desert, it encircles you ferociously, silently, viciously unabating. Now flintlock frizzen and frizzled lay the blackened remnants of the worthless currencies. All rendered untouchable to all, as it all was before. Your eyes, protruding on frog like pods, filled with streams lacrimosa, reach pleadingly to the onlookers who stand silently stock still, emotionless motionless all, without the ring of strangely beautiful crimson and saffron coloured flame’ ‘Mei capilli sunt flagrantes’ sound out your hopeless cries
Ye then will know that all available Gods have forsaken you.
(Francis P. 2008 unpublished)
Hear ye
But loud clamorous cries resounded throughout the Trojan host: for they had not one speech and one language, but a confusion of tongues, since they were called from many lands. They were like a huge flock of ewes innumerable standing in a wide farmyard to be milked, which bleat without ceasing as they hear the cries of their lambs.
Iliad I
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