Home is so sad. It stays as it wa
Shaped in the comfort of the last
As if to win them back. Instead,
Of anyone to please, it withers so
Having no heart to put aside the t

Thinking in terms of one
Is easily done—
One room, one bed, one chair,
One person there,
Makes perfect sense; one set

Quarterly, is it, money reproaches
‘Why do you let me lie here wastef
I am all you never had of goods an
You could get them still by writin
So I look at others, what they do

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-

Delay, well, travellers must expec
Delay. For how long? No one seems
With all the luggage weighed, the
It can’t be long... We amble too
Sit in steel chairs, buy cigarette

Always too eager for the future, w
Pick up bad habits of expectancy.
Something is always approaching; e
Till then we say,
Watching from a bluff the tiny, cl

Beyond the dark cartoons
Are darker spaces where
Small cloudy nests of stars
Seem to float on air.
These have no proper names:

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

I saw three ships go sailing by,
Over the sea, the lifting sea,
And the wind rose in the morning s
And one was rigged for a long jour
The first ship turned towards the

This empty street, this sky to bla
This air, a little indistinct with
Like a reflection, constitute the
A time traditionally soured,
A time unrecommended by event.