The rites of June

All those Christies I copped last week for a buck apiece turn out to be Miss Marples, except for a single late Tommy and Tuppence. Mind, I chose titles whose plots I couldn't immediately remember, which may be why there are no Poirots. But still...

Open mic at many neighbourhood venues today. There was one instance of some kind of Andean flute, very pleasant, but the rest were the usual off-key nasal C&W or LOUD amplified cacophanous rock. The latter in the laneway behind the house, necessitating closing windows. Why does no one sing ballads or folk anymore, or even the harmonious rock of my youth?

Tags: reading_18, rl_18

Post a new comment
0 comments

Log in

The rites of June

Error