#EnglishWriters
If hands could free you, heart, Where would you fly? Far, beyond every part Of earth this running sky Makes desolate? Would you cross
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…
The mower stalled, twice; kneeling… A hedgehog jammed up against the b… Killed. It had been in the long g… I had seen it before, and even fed… Now I had mauled its unobtrusive…
Down stucco sidestreets, Where light is pewter And afternoon mist Brings lights on in shops Above race—guides and rosaries,
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
Slowly the women file to where he… Upright in rimless glasses, silver… Dark suit, white collar. Stewards… Persuade them onwards to his voice… Within whose warm spring rain of l…
Walking around in the park Should feel better than work: The lake, the sunshine, The grass to lie on, Blurred playground noises
Day comes to an end. The gas fire breathes, the trees a… Funny how hard it is to be alone. I could spend half my evenings, if… Holding a glass of washing sherry,…
The trumpet’s voice, loud and auth… Draws me a moment to the lighted g… To watch the dancers —all under tw… Solemnly on the beat of happiness. –Or so I fancy, sensing the smoke…
Lambs that learn to walk in snow When their bleating clouds the air Meet a vast unwelcome, know Nothing but a sunless glare. Newly stumbling to and fro
When first we faced, and touching… How well we knew the early moves, Behind the moonlight and the frost… The excitement and the gratitude, There stood how much our meeting o…
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…
Once I am sure there’s nothing go… I step inside, letting the door th… Another church: matting, seats, an… And little books; sprawlings of fl… For Sunday, brownish now; some br…
