Lit and Phil

I remember the feeling well,
and the smell, a musty stink,
and the lady ladling out
cups of tea,
and the busts of important men
atop roman plinths,
and the racks of books,
and the bit below stairs,
the Loftus Room,
a large black grand piano.
A time when everything that’s read
comes from a comic,
book and newspaper.


2 responses to “Lit and Phil

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