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Interior with Ida in a White Chair, by Vilhelm Hammershøi
Philip Larkin

Philip Larkin

Days
What are days for?
Days are where we live.  
They come, they wake us  
Time and time over.
They are to be happy in:  
Where can we live but days?
 
Ah, solving that question
Brings the priest and the doctor  
In their long coats
Running over the fields.

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I saw three ships go sailing by, Over the sea, the lifting sea, And the wind rose in the morning s… And one was rigged for a long jour… The first ship turned towards the…
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"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,...
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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.
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Walking around in the park Should feel better than work: The lake, the sunshine, The grass to lie on, Blurred playground noises
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