dedalus Posted March 20, 2012 Share Posted March 20, 2012 Last in, first out Is what they used say In the factories: the layoffs Sensed before they happened. And in Belfast, at H & W Where they built the Titanic, The Taigs would go first. The natural order. I think more and more Of Louis MacNeice. If there is any poet in the world, He is the closest to my soul. Protean, entirely unimpressed, Shouldering the black guilt of Ulster And simultaneously shrugging it off, Every poem a new beginning. Auden felt awe as his powers failed. Spender more or less had given up. Only Dylan Thomas ploughed on, Sound-intoxicated, incomprehensible. Larkin, I think, had little to say. Heaney, Longley and Paul Muldoon Owe Northern debts of gratitude, As so, in my Southern way, do I. A sample of MacNeice: http://dublinerinjapan.blogspot.jp/2004/07/louis-macneice-dangerously-good-poem.html Quote Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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