Friday Cat Blogging
And that will be England gone,
The shadows, the meadows, the lanes
The guildhalls, the carved choirs.
There'll be books; it will linger on
In galleries; but all that remains
For us will be concrete and tyres.
Most things are never meant.
This won't be, most likely: but greeds
And garbage are too thick-strewn
To be swept up now, or invent
Excuses that make them all needs.
I just think it will happen, soon.
From "Going, Going"
Philip Larkin
The shadows, the meadows, the lanes
The guildhalls, the carved choirs.
There'll be books; it will linger on
In galleries; but all that remains
For us will be concrete and tyres.
Most things are never meant.
This won't be, most likely: but greeds
And garbage are too thick-strewn
To be swept up now, or invent
Excuses that make them all needs.
I just think it will happen, soon.
From "Going, Going"
Philip Larkin
posted by awol | 11:18 AM
2 Comments:
I thought this could be a new form for C.o.D. -- just a poem or part of a poem thrown out on Fridays, that speaks in someway to, or from, one of us.
No way, man: "there are some simple pleasures in life that really help you cope. One is Barney the dog, and the other is books."
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