#EnglishWriters
The wind blew all my wedding—day, And my wedding—night was the night… And a stable door was banging, aga… That he must go and shut it, leavi… Stupid in candlelight, hearing rai…
Marrying left yor maiden name disu… Its five light sounds no longer me… Your voice, and all your variants… For since you were so thankfully c… By law with someone else, you cann…
Since the majority of me Rejects the majority of you, Debating ends forwith, and we Divide. And sure of what to do We disinfect new blocks of days
Beyond all this, the wish to be al… However the sky grows dark with in… However we follow the printed dire… However the family is photographed… Beyond all this, the wish to be al…
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
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,
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…
What are days for? Days are where we live. They come, they wake us Time and time over. They are to be happy in:
Waiting for breakfast, while she b… I looked down at the empty hotel y… Once meant for coaches. Cobblesto… But sent no light back to the load… Sunk as it was with mist down to t…
Tightly-folded bud, I have wished you something None of the others would: Not the usual stuff About being beautiful,
Down stucco sidestreets, Where light is pewter And afternoon mist Brings lights on in shops Above race—guides and rosaries,
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;
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…
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
Side by side, their faces blurred, The earl and countess lie in stone… Their proper habits vaguely shown As jointed armour, stiffened pleat… And that faint hint of the absurd—