Friday, 11 May 2007

Friday Morning

I can't come now I'm doin me apples
That Tony, face-to-face, what a gent!
Anyone seen my 72 Wild swans
I'll swing fer yer I will
Married and not even pregnant, there's posh for you
A fortnight of Mondays
Always a shining light, now just shining lights
Modern Pottery
A Wild Justice
As I walked out that morning
I wanted to buy a pair of stags but they were two deer
Zombies and Nazis
I was Kaiser Bill's Batman
A stitch in time saves nine
Never a borrower or a lender be
She was dead pretty she was


What spires, what farms are those?
They shall not return to us, the resolute, the young
I know that I shall meet my fate, somewhere among the clouds above
I remember the rooms that have had their part in the steady slowing down of the heart
The work of hunters is another thing
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain
Let the boys bring flowers in last year's newspapers
Here, now, we forget eqach other and ourselves
I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox
A snake came to my water-trough
While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead
While this America settles in the mould of its vulgarity
it is not the acquisition of any one thing
I shall wear white flannel trousers and walk upon the beach
On every thought I have the countless shadows fall

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