I am, as you know, Walter Llywarc… Born in Wales of approved parents… Well goitred, round in the bum, Sure prey of the slow virus Bred in quarries of grey rain.

So beautiful—God himself quailed at her approach: the long body cur… like the horizon. Why had he made her so? How would it be, she said, leaning towards him, if instead of

Too far for you to see The fluke and the foot-rot and the… Gnawing the skin from the small bo… The sheep are grazing at Bwlch-y-… Arranged romantically in the usual…

Men who have hardly uncurled from their posture in the womb. Naked. Heads bowed, not in prayer, but in contemplation of the earth they came from,

The idiot goes round and around With his brother in a bumping car At the fair. The famous idiot Smile hangs over the car’s edge, Illuminating nothing. This is man…

I praise you because you are artist and scientist in one. When I am somewhat fearful of your power, your ability to work miracles

It is this great absence that is like a presence, that comp… me to address it without hope of a reply. It is a room I enter from which someone has just

Moments of great calm, Kneeling before an altar Of wood in a stone church In summer, waiting for the God To speak; the air a staircase

My father is dead. I who am look at him who is not, as once he went looking for me in the woman who was.

You go up the long track That will take a car, but is best… On slow foot, noting the lichen That writes history on the page Of the grey rock. Trees are about…

It is calm. It is as though we lived in a garden that had not yet arrived at the knowledge of