Added: 2 years ago
From: hartistry
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  • T gray sea and t long black land And the yellow half-moon large and low And the startled little waves that leap In fiery ringlets from their sleep As I gain the cove with pushing prow, And quench its speed i the slushy sand. Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach; Three fields to cross till a farm appears A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch And blue spurt of a lighted match And a voice less loud through its joys and fears Than the two hearts beating each to each
  • There was rat laughter, Deeper here and there,

    And occasionally she-rats grew hysterical.

    The shadowy figures looked on, agonized.

    The woman with no face gave a cry and collapsed.

    The rats danced on her

    And on the wriggling words

    Smirking.

    The nursery governor flew back into the well

    With the little figure without hands in the brown-tree clothes.

  • Began hysterically, to laugh and cry, And, with a gesture of impotent and half-petulant despair, Filmed back into his effigy again. High above the Bank of Ireland Unearthly music sounded, Passing westwards. Then, from the drains, Small sewage rats slid out. They numbered hundreds of hundreds, tens, thousands. Each bowed obsequiously to the shadowy figures Then turned and joined in a stomach dance with his brothers and sisters. Being a multitude, they dance
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