Dublinesque
Down stucco sidestreets,
Where light is
And afternoon
Brings lights on in
Down stucco sidestreets,
Where light is
And afternoon
Brings lights on in
Strange to know nothing, never to be
Of what is true or right or real,
But forced to qualify or so I feel,
Or Well, it does seem so:
Cut grass lies frail:
Brief is the
Mown stalks exhale
Long, long the
Love again: wanking at ten past three(Surely he's taken her home by now
),
The bedroom hot as a bakery,
The drink gone dead, without showing
Slowly the women file to where he
Upright in rimless glasses, silver hair,
Dark suit, white collar
Stewards
Love, we must part now: do not let it be Calamitious and bitter
In the past There has been too much moonlight and self-pity:
Let us have done with it: for now at last Never has sun more boldly paced the sky,
Never were hearts more e...
Boys dream of native girls who bring breadfruit, Whatever they are,
As bribes to teach them how to
Sixteen sexual positions on the sand;
This makes them join (the boys) the tennis club,
There is an evening coming
Across the fields, one never seen before,
That lights no lamps
Silken it seems at a distance,
Closed like confessionals, they
Loud noons of cities, giving
None of the glances they absorb
Light glossy grey, arms on a plaque,
Once I am sure there's nothing going on I step inside, letting the door thud shut
Another church: matting, seats, and stone,
And little books; sprawlings of flowers, cut For Sunday, brownish now; some brass and stuff Up at the holy end; ...
'Dockery was junior to you,
Wasn't he
' said the Dean
'His son's here now
Home is so sad
It stays as it was left,
Shaped to the comfort of the last to
As if to win them back