#English #XXCentury
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…
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,
Words as plain as hen—birds’ wings Do not lie, Do not over—broider things — Are too shy. Thoughts that shuffle round like p…
The trees are coming into leaf Like something almost being said; The recent buds relax and spread, Their greenness is a kind of grief… Is it that they are born again
The eye can hardly pick them out From the cold shade they shelter i… Till wind distresses tail and main… Then one crops grass, and moves ab… —The other seeming to look on—
"Of course I was drugged, and so heavily I did not regain consciousness until the next morning. I was horrified to discover that I had been ruined, and for some days I was inconsolable,...
Coming up England by a different… For once, early in the cold new ye… We stopped, and, watching men with… Sprint down the platform to famili… ‘Why, Coventry!’ I exclaimed. ‘I…
On the day of the explosion Shadows pointed towards the pithea… In the sun the slagheap slept. Down the lane came men in pitboots Coughing oath-edged talk and pipe-…
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…
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,…
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.
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…
I feared these present years, The middle twenties, When deftness disappears, And each event is Freighted with a source—encrusting…
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…
Like the train’s beat Swift language flutters the lips Of the Polish airgirl in the corn… The swinging and narrowing sun Lights her eyelashes, shapes