#EnglishWriters
If I were called in To construct a religion I should make use of water. Going to church Would entail a fording
After comparing lives with you for… I see how I’ve been losing: all t… I’ve met a different gauge of girl… Grant that, and all the rest makes… My mortification at your pushovers…
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,…
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;
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;
My age fallen away like white swad… Floats in the middle distance, bec… An inhabited cloud. I bend closer… A lighted tenement scuttling with… O you tall game I tired myself wi…
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…
In frames as large as rooms that f… And block the ends of streets with… Screen graves with custard, cover… Of motor—oil and cuts of salmon, s… Perpetually these sharply—pictured…
When getting my nose in a book Cured most things short of school, It was worth ruining my eyes To know I could still keep cool, And deal out the old right hook
Words as plain as hen—birds’ wings Do not lie, Do not over—broider things — Are too shy. Thoughts that shuffle round like p…
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…
If hands could free you, heart, Where would you fly? Far, beyond every part Of earth this running sky Makes desolate? Would you cross
You do not come dramatically, with… That rear up with my life between… And dash me butchered down beside… The horses panicking; nor as a cla… Clearly set out to warn what can b…
Sometimes you hear, fifth-hand, As epitaph: He chucked up everything And just cleared off, And always the voice will sound
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…