#EnglishWriters
They fuck you up, your mum and dad… They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they… And add some extra, just for you. But they were fucked up in their t…
‘Dockery was junior to you, Wasn’t he?’ said the Dean. ‘His s… Death-suited, visitant, I nod. ‘A… You keep in touch with—’ Or remem… Black-gowned, unbreakfasted, and s…
Why should I let the toad work Squat on my life? Can’t I use my wit as a pitchfork And drive the brute off? Six days of the week it soils
To step over the low wall that div… Road from concrete walk above the… Brings sharply back something know… The miniature gaiety of seasides. Everything crowds under the low ho…
Groping back to bed after a piss I part thick curtains, and am star… The rapid clouds, the moon’s clean… Four o’clock: wedge-shadowed garde… Under a cavernous, a wind-picked s…
On shallow straw, in shadeless gla… Huddled by empty bowls, they sleep… No dark, no dam, no earth, no gras… Mam, get us one of them to keep. Living toys are something novel,
To put one brick upon another, Add a third and then a forth, Leaves no time to wonder whether What you do has any worth. But to sit with bricks around you
My mother, who hates thunder storm… Holds up each summer day and shake… It out suspiciously, lest swarms Of grape—dark clouds are lurking t… But when the August weather break…
Closed like confessionals, they th… Loud noons of cities, giving back None of the glances they absorb. Light glossy grey, arms on a plaqu… They come to rest at any kerb:
Next year we are to bring all the… For lack of money, and it is all r… Places they guarded, or kept order… We want the money for ourselves at… Instead of working. And this is a…
Obedient daily dress, You cannot always keep That unfakable young surface. You must learn your lines — Anger, amusement, sleep;
If grief could burn out Like a sunken coal The heart would rest quiet The unrent soul Be as still as a veil
Once I believed in you, And then you came, Unquestionably new, as fame Had said you were. But that was l… You launched no argument,
At last you yielded up the album,… Once open, sent me distracted. Al… Matt and glossy on the thick black… Too much confectionery, too rich: I choke on such nutritious images.
On the day of the explosion Shadows pointed towards the pithea… In the sun the slagheap slept. Down the lane came men in pitboots Coughing oath-edged talk and pipe-…