#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…
Sexual intercourse began In nineteen sixty—three (which was rather late for me) — Between the end of the Chatterley… And the Beatles’ first LP.
Swerving east, from rich industria… And traffic all night north; swerv… Too thin and thistled to be called… And now and then a harsh—named hal… Workmen at dawn; swerving to solit…
My readers... sometimes I wonder whether they really exist. Truly they arer remarkably tolerant, manifesting themselves only by the occasional query as to where they can buy records: ju...
Rain patters on a sea that tilts a… Fast-running floors, collapsing in… Tower suddenly, spray-haired. Con… A wave drops like a wall: another… Wilting and scrambling, tirelessly…
She kept her songs, they kept so l… The covers pleased her: One bleached from lying in a sunny… One marked in circles by a vase of… One mended, when a tidy fit had se…
Coming up England by a different… For once, early in the cold new ye… We stopped, and, watching men with… Sprint down the platform to famili… ‘Why, Coventry!’ I exclaimed. ‘I…
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…
Come To Sunny Prestatyn Laughed the girl on the poster, Kneeling up on the sand In tautened white satin. Behind her, a hunk of coast, a
The large cool store selling cheap… Set out in simple sizes plainly (Knitwear, Summer Casuals, Hose, In Browns and greys, maroons and… Conjures the weekday world of thos…
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…
What are days for? Days are where we live. They come, they wake us Time and time over. They are to be happy in:
Light spreads darkly downwards fro… Clusters of lights over empty chai… That face each other, coloured dif… Through open doors, the dining—roo… A larger loneliness of knives and…
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
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.