Incarnate devil in a talking snake… The central plains of Asia in his… In shaping-time the circle stung a… In shapes of sin forked out the be… And God walked there who was a fi…

Once below a time, When my pinned-around-the-spirit Cut-to-measure flesh bit, Suit for a serial sum On the first of each hardship,

—"Poem in October," Dylan Thomas, Poetry, February 1945 As the story goes, the thirty—something Dylan Thomas would only get up in the morning if someone stuffed a beer bottle in his mo...

Sometimes the sky’s too bright, Or has too many clouds or birds, And far away’s too sharp a sun To nourish thinking of him. Why is my hand too blunt

Lie still, sleep becalmed, suffere… In the throat, burning and turning… On the silent sea we have heard th… That came from the wound wrapped i… Under the mile off moon we tremble…

The hand that signed the paper fel… Five sovereign fingers taxed the b… Doubled the globe of dead and halv… These five kings did a king to dea… The mighty hand leads to a sloping…

Light breaks where no sun shines; Where no sea runs, the waters of t… Push in their tides; And, broken ghosts with glow—worms… The things of light

Hold hard, these ancient minutes i… Under the lank, fourth folly on G… As the green blooms ride upward, t… Time, in a folly’s rider, like a c… Over the vault of ridings with his…