#EnglishWriters
This is the first thing I have understood: Time is the echo of an axe Within a wood.
At last you yielded up the album,… Once open, sent me distracted. Al… Matt and glossy on the thick black… Too much confectionery, too rich: I choke on such nutritious images.
I thought it would last my time— The sense that, beyond the town, There would always be fields and f… Where the village louts could clim… Such trees as were not cut down;
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…
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…
On shallow straw, in shadeless gla… Huddled by empty bowls, they sleep… No dark, no dam, no earth, no gras… Mam, get us one of them to keep. Living toys are something novel,
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
Tightly-folded bud, I have wished you something None of the others would: Not the usual stuff About being beautiful,
When I was a child, I thought, Casually, that solitude Never needed to be sought. Something everybody had, Like nakedness, it lay at hand,
I feared these present years, The middle twenties, When deftness disappears, And each event is Freighted with a source—encrusting…
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…
In this dream that dogs me I am p… Of a silent crowd walking under a… Leaving a football match, perhaps,… All moving the same way. After a… A second wall closes on our right,
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…
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…
My wife and I have asked a crowd… To come and waste their time and o… You’d care to join us? In a pig’s… Day comes to an end. The gas fire breathes, the trees a…