It wouldn't be true to say I wasn't there, but I wasn't there
Requiem
There are places that breathe, that whisper
Not Required on Voyage
The river isn't listening
Street shouts, the housemaids roused
I was on such a train
Consider grass
Meeting at the Bottle-Bank
I am glad I'm not a fish, a fish, a fucking fish
The tenements glisten under slow Welsh rain
The sword is handier in a fight than the pen
It was about a second
I have decided to be English
From the train into London, mud huts with corners
The Circle most definitely isn't
They are closing the gun factories. Less jobs and more people. Madness!
She sits in a blue-grey smog. She could be beautiful
Bookshop
I was not at Waterloo
Last night I dreamt about my first wife
If you want to get there, don't start from here.
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