And the last sound, your father arriving home late, late
Letters
We talked in spurts, in desperate whispers
Camera
You look at them flashing their indicators
Egg
I have fallen. I am somewhere between melancholia and frenzy
Nikon
Every day is a fresh beginning
Tomorrow
While the cars and the taxis and the lorries go by
SNIP!
I don't know when I'll get to London
The dogs are barking
It made me suicidal just remembering E.H.
The School-Run
The burnt-out ends of smoky days
I was set down from the carrier's cart at the age of three
And then the lighting of the lamps
A South Wales Argus came swirling, about my feet
A Royal Disaster
I cannot endure this hideous, wicked, stupidity
Lay your head upon my shoulder
A chocolate Brillo Pad, pink custard
Our president is a disaster. The next will be worse.
Cheap Cheep
Who cares what they say of you after your dead
Before me a wall, high, insurmountable
There are protests everywhere
Don't always be a thought ahead
She is so desperately frail and old, but still interested
Out of step
They build the world of love from sex, after-the-fact
I've finished a joke Mexican novel
The girls arrive in their belted mackintoshes
Reading Banville
Tuesday, 11 September 2007
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