The prize winning poem fleur adcock
But now that I am in love with a place that doesn't care how I look and if I am happy, happy is how I look and that's all.
The wider narrative of family history is pulled into intimate space as the poet retraces her autobiography, including the relationship with her mother "We'll learn to be good friends for forty years, / most of them spent apart, vocal with letters." "My First Twenty Years.
It was that bone-simple.
Weathering My face catches the wind from the snow line and flushes with a flush that will never wholly settle.A strange and isolated sort of chap, he was passionate about world peace.And why now remember?Another day would be different but it wouldn't matter.
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What really grips me what I continue to compose is the narrative of my family history." Adcock can wear these two hats at the same time.
Somewhere along the way she got caught in flagrante with someone else, was as guilty as sin, had a second son, dwelt peaceably à trois with the romantic poet's second wife for a spell, got a job and took off with her baby under her.
He has a paunch like your neighbours before he went on that diet.The truth is, she says, that she isn't really interested in relationships."Five years she says, "then five months.Then you gulp cold water and make of your mouth a wet cool tunnel.All skies work.) Cut to the lower right for a detail: seagulls pecking on mud, below two office blocks and a Georgian terrace.She knows the precise moment now, as we climb the stairs to her study, so it comes, all cheerfully matter-of-fact from between her shoulder blades."I haven't a clue how her mind worked.
Isn't it perverse?" Anyway, it wasn't long before she displayed all the foresight and prudence of a lemming and married him.