For Tom


Dylan Thomas

The words would whirl with sticks
To trip him once he'd set them spinning,
And it wasn't rare for him to fall,
Coherence shattered. Kids who read
Him never care. The wildness,
The dizzy whirling, are what they most
Care about. The sober lines which plod
By later won't appeal to most of them.
They'll idolize their drunken Welshman.
Then, they'll turn away.




Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 79 times
Written on 2020-08-19 at 00:49

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