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This was Mr Bleaney s room He stayed The wh

This was Mr Bleaney""s room. He stayed
The whole time he was at the Bodies till
They moved him."" Flowered curtains thin and frayed
Fall to within five inches of the sill

Whose window shows a strip of building land
Tussocky littered. ""Mr Bleaney took
My bit of garden properly in hand.""
Bed upright chair sixty watt bulb no hook

Behind the door no room for books or bags
""I""ll take it."" So it happens that I lie
Where Mr Bleaney lay and stub my fags
On the same saucer souvenir and try

Stuffing my ears with cotton wool to drown
The jabbering set he egged her on to buy.
I know his habits what time he came down
His preference for sauce to gravy why

He kept on plugging at the four aways
Likewise their yearly frame the Frinton folk
Who put him up for summer holidays
And Christmas at his sister""s house in Stoke.

But if he stood and watched the frigid wind
Tousling the clouds lay on the fusty bed
Telling himself that this was home and grinned
And shivered without shaking off the dread

That how we live measures our own nature
And at his age having no more to show
Than one hired box should make him pretty sure
He warranted no better I don""t know. .

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by:- admin posted in:- philip larkin

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