A Thurn Among them marble where the man may lie Lie chieftains grand in final phase, or pause, ‘O rare Ben Jonson’, Dictator too, & the thinky other Johnson, Dictator too, backhanders down of
The conclusion is growing. . . I feel sure, my lord, This august court will entertain the plea Not Guilty by reason of death. I can say no more except that for the record
The Russian grin bellows his condolence Tó the family: ah but it’s Kay, & Ted, & Chris & Anne, Henry thinks of: who eased his fearful way From here, in here, to there. This
Under the table, no. That last was stunning, That flagon had breasts. Some men grow down cursed. Why drink so, two days running? Two months, O seasons, years, two decades running? I answer (smiles)
There were strange gatherings. A vote would come That would be no vote. There would come a rope. Yes. There would come a rope. Men have their hats down. “Dancing in the Dark” Will
The jane is zoned! no nightspot here, no bar There, no sweet freeway, and no premises For business purposes, No loiterers or needers. Henry are Baffled. Have ev’ybody head for Maine, Utility-man take a
He does not live here but it is the god. A priest tools in a top his motorbike. You do not enter. Us the landscape circles hard abroad, Sunned, stone. Like calls, too low,
these hearings endlessly, friends, word is had Henry may be returning to our life Adult & difficult. There exist rumors that remote and sad And quite beyond the knowledge of his wife To the
Nothin very bad happen to me lately. How you explain that? —I explain that, Mr Bones, Terms o’ your bafflin odd sobriety. Sober as man can get, no girls, no telephones, What could happen
Old Pussy-cat if he won’t eat, he don’t Feel good into his tum’, old Pussy-cat. He wants to have eaten. Tremor, heaves, he sweaterings. He can’t. A dizzy swims of where is Henry at;
It was the blue & plain ones. I forget all that. My own clouds darkening hung. Besides, it wasn’t serious. They took them in different rooms & fed them lies. ‘She admitted you wanted
It’s buried at a distance, on my insistence, buried. Weather’s severe there, which it will not mind. I miss it. O happies before & during & between the times it got married. I hate
Grief is fatiguing. He is out of it, The whole humiliating Human round, Out of this & that. He made a-many hearts go pit-a-pat Who now need never mind his nostril-hair Nor a critical
That dark brown rabbit, lightness in his ears & underneath, gladdened our afternoon Munching a crab-‘. That rabbit was a fraud, like a black bull Prudent I admired in Zaragoza, who Certainly was brave
It was wet & white & swift and where I am We don’t know. It was dark and then It isn’t. I wish the barker would come. There seems to be eat Nothing. I
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