I said I thought this sounded like the perfect way to walk. The truth was I had no idea what he was talking about. If you stop and think about it, it’s no way to walk at all.
MonAug 3rd
One dark night,
my Tudor Ford climbed the hill’s skull;
I watched for love-cars. Lights turned down,
they lay together, hull to hull,
where the graveyard shelves on the town… .
My mind’s not right.
- Robert Lowell
RL—was he in the middle 50? I’d say he was better than… I’ll go with Keats. That guy was a pussy.
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tumblcore reblogged this from thisrecording and added:
middle 50? I’d say he was better than… I’ll go with Keats. That guy was a pussy.
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oldtobegin reblogged this from thisrecording and added:
“skunk hour” is a perfect poem. click through
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