#EnglishWriters
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…
That Whitsun, I was late getting… Not till about One—twenty on the sunlit Saturday Did my three—quarters—empty train… All windows down, all cushions hot…
When I was a child, I thought, Casually, that solitude Never needed to be sought. Something everybody had, Like nakedness, it lay at hand,
Suspended lion face Spilling at the centre Of an unfurnished sky How still you stand, And how unaided
‘This was Mr Bleaney’s room. He… The whole time he was at the Bodi… They moved him.’ Flowered curtain… Fall to within five inches of the… Whose window shows a strip of buil…
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,…
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
Love again: wanking at ten past th… (Surely he’s taken her home by now… The bedroom hot as a bakery, The drink gone dead, without showi… To meet tomorrow, and afterwards,
If hands could free you, heart, Where would you fly? Far, beyond every part Of earth this running sky Makes desolate? Would you cross
That note you hold, narrowing and… Like New Orleans reflected on the… And in all ears appropriate falseh… Building for some a legendary Qua… Of balconies, flower—baskets and q…
New eyes each year Find old books here, And new books, too, Old eyes renew; So youth and age
She kept her songs, they kept so l… The covers pleased her: One bleached from lying in a sunny… One marked in circles by a vase of… One mended, when a tidy fit had se…
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,
The large cool store selling cheap… Set out in simple sizes plainly (Knitwear, Summer Casuals, Hose, In Browns and greys, maroons and… Conjures the weekday world of thos…
Morning, a glass door, flashes Gold names off the new city, Whose white shelves and domes trav… The slow sky all day. I land to stay here;