November 20

 

I would be sorry if everything ended here,
so I intend to plod on and, if necessary,
place myself in front of a huge plate-glass
window and check the look –

November 19

 

As I sit and contemplate something to contemplate, perhaps the Britain we live in today, or someone’s absence,
or what to have for lunch, how about all those dark domestic dramas being ignored, and the lack of adventure suffusing our lives, if a lack can indeed suffuse anything.

November 18

 

I always admire your punctuation when I see you dawdling across the printed page.

November 17

 

This bloody corporeal thing gets on your nerves
somewhat, don’t you know, rhetorical question — no need to answer that.

November 16

 

Who knows where the watch has gone? A question unasked but
urgent, if it doesn’t happen fast the girl will be run.

November 15

 

Only in flashes
the glee and excitement –
something is afoot,
young is brave.

November 14

 

Sometimes prima donna-ish
it’s a drum he’s been banging for years:
enough has been said already.

November 13

 

We can be deeply intelligent and
remarkably dumb, but here are glowing
internal suns, and no more misery.

November 12

 

Be happy to be ambushed now and again by seeming demons.
It’s the way of life of the nomad.

November 11

 

Then there is your box of books: sometimes it may seem to be an exercise in oblivion
but they represent a generous conception of what you can be.