Continuing to live—that is, repeat
A habit formed to get necessaries—
Is nearly always losing, or going
It varies.
This loss of interest, hair, and e

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

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.

Waiting for breakfast, while she b
I looked down at the empty hotel y
Once meant for coaches. Cobblesto
But sent no light back to the load
Sunk as it was with mist down to t

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

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

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

What do they think has happened, t
To make them like this? Do they s
It’s more grown-up when your mouth
And you keep on pissing yourself,
Who called this morning? Or that,

Sexual intercourse began
In nineteen sixty—three
(which was rather late for me) —
Between the end of the Chatterley
And the Beatles’ first LP.

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