Thursday, April 17, 2014

EDITH SITWELL'S WORLD

Hapless as chasms
in the wind
not cautious
for telling it as is
over London skies
on breathless nights
of the intense blitz,
children buried alive
on garden doorsteps
in the murmuring rain
of bestiality's power
then the enemy returns
home with flowers
and listening to Liszt.


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