Talking in Bed par Philip Larkin Talking in bed ought to be easiest Lying together there goes back so An emblem of two people being hone Yet more and more time passes sile Outside the wind’s incomplete unre 2
Water par Philip Larkin If I were called in To construct a religion I should make use of water. Going to church Would entail a fording 1 5
Why Did I Dream of You Last Night? par Philip Larkin Why did I dream of you last night Now morning is pushing back hair w Memories strike home, like slaps i Raised on elbow, I stare at the p beyond the window. 1
Like the Train's Beat par Philip Larkin Like the train’s beat Swift language flutters the lips Of the Polish airgirl in the corn The swinging and narrowing sun Lights her eyelashes, shapes
Reasons for Attendance par Philip Larkin 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
Autobiography at an Air-Station par Philip Larkin 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
Toads par Philip Larkin Why should I let the toad work Squat on my life? Can’t I use my wit as a pitchfork And drive the brute off? Six days of the week it soils 1
Wild Oats par Philip Larkin About twenty years ago Two girls came in where I worked— A bosomy English rose And her friend in specs I could t Faces in those days sparked
The Explosion par Philip Larkin 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-
Sad Steps par Philip Larkin 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 1
