#English #XXCentury
Marrying left yor maiden name disu… Its five light sounds no longer me… Your voice, and all your variants… For since you were so thankfully c… By law with someone else, you cann…
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,
A stationary sense... as, I suppo… I shall have, till my single body… Inaccurate, tired; Then I shall start to feel the ba… Take over, sickening and masterful…
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…
Lonely in Ireland, since it was n… Strangeness made sense. The salt… Insisting so on difference, made m… Once that was recognised, we were… Their draughty streets, end—on to…
The cloakroom pegs are empty now, And locked the classroom door, The hollow desks are lined with du… And slow across the floor A sunbeam creeps between the chair…
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-…
Strange to know nothing, never to… Of what is true or right or real, But forced to qualify or so I fee… Or Well, it does seem so: Someone must know.
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…
Is it for now or for always, The world hangs on a stalk? Is it a trick or a trysting—place, The woods we have found to walk? Is it a mirage or miracle,
For nations vague as weed, For nomads among stones, Small—statured cross—faced tribes And cobble—close families In mill—towns on dark mornings
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…
At once whatever happened starts r… Panting, and back on board, we lin… With trousers ripped, light wallet… Yes, gone, thank God! Remembering… We toss for half the night, but fi…
My age fallen away like white swad… Floats in the middle distance, bec… An inhabited cloud. I bend closer… A lighted tenement scuttling with… O you tall game I tired myself wi…
Tired of a landscape known too wel… The deliberate shallow hills, the… Flying past rocks; tired of rememb… The village children and their nau… He abandoned his small holding and…