An artificial tiger
And now look at the results
Dad had gone out in the rowing-boat
Darkness like tunnel walls
Each day we must reckon
Eggs in the cuckoo clock
God is writing a novel
He felt there wasn't enough guilt in the world
He sang the brightness of mornings and green rivers
He wakes, he calls her name
His staring glass eye
I have never visited him in his quarters
I try to imagine "poor"
I went into the bathroom to see
It happened much as he expected, but he was wrong about when.
It was a strange atmosphere on the plane.
Jumping barbed wire fences on an old German motor-bike
Life is a hospital ward, lovers in every bed
Love of art, not others
My mother's wedding ring
Next to her deathbed, a large white fish
Nine months and then you let me out
On top of a wardrobe, his old vest
She screamed for England but lost to a Pole from a dark forest
She was cleaning
Sun. And sky. And in the sky, white clouds
The ankles were tied
We should plan ahead for being dead
Yet you have come here to rescue her
You confront yourself
You had a fancy coffin, go fast stripes
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