#EnglishWriters
Strange to know nothing, never to… Of what is true or right or real, But forced to qualify or so I fee… Or Well, it does seem so: Someone must know.
Once I believed in you, And then you came, Unquestionably new, as fame Had said you were. But that was l… You launched no argument,
Standing under the fobbed Impendent belly of Time Tell me the truth, I said, Teach me the way things go. All the other lads there
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…
Quarterly, is it, money reproaches… ‘Why do you let me lie here wastef… I am all you never had of goods an… You could get them still by writin… So I look at others, what they do…
Caught in the center of a soundles… While hot inexplicable hours go by What trap is this? Where were its… You seem to ask. I make a sharp reply,
This is the first thing I have understood: Time is the echo of an axe Within a wood.
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 cloakroom pegs are empty now, And locked the classroom door, The hollow desks are lined with du… And slow across the floor A sunbeam creeps between the chair…
Since we agreed to let the road be… Fall to disuse, And bricked our gates up, planted… And turned all time’s eroding agen… Silence, and space, and strangers…
Higher than the handsomest hotel The lucent comb shows up for miles… All round it close—ribbed streets… Like a great sigh out of the last… The porters are scruffy; what keep…
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…
My readers... sometimes I wonder whether they really exist. Truly they arer remarkably tolerant, manifesting themselves only by the occasional query as to where they can buy records: ju...
If grief could burn out Like a sunken coal The heart would rest quiet The unrent soul Be as still as a veil
Tightly-folded bud, I have wished you something None of the others would: Not the usual stuff About being beautiful,