Pardon the lateness of these, but just flipping through books and getting "tweaked" I managed two short poems. Well that's me complete for the day
I seem to have always known I was a carpenter
Some call this a city
I have never sat beside a river with someone beautiful and just looked
One spring a few years later
Here I am, a man of good sense
There is a certain way the light comes in
We drink it in the morning, we drink it at night
The touch of something carved
I have walked down side-streets under trees
I want to sing. I would like to play
Walking through the supermarket at night, the cans…
Nothing came from out the gloom
For you it’s no big deal, but this is my ambition
And he loved boiled sweets and sex
I would like to increase life
Why not salad for breakfast?
After swimming, down Stow Hill, extraordinarily fresh
Oxo and Bread, twopence
I miss the joy of body
If I fill my house with poems, must they all be good?
Men who take to railways or to tugs
I sat once on a lonely road, waiting for a vet’s needle
You must have had your hand up a lot of skirts
My son had not heard of Thalidomide
A word but not used up, is filled with light
We must die, or love one another.
The mere word freedom can kill
They sing such jolly songs, but they are dying, ignorant.
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