Mrs Calloway’s Reviews > [(The Collected Poems of Dylan Thomas)] [ By (author) Dylan Thomas, Edited by John Goodby ] [October, 2014] > Status Update

Purpose is gone;
I tried to hold, but can’t,
Compress, inflate, grow old,
With all the tackle of my certain magic
Stone hard to lift.

A cross of legs
That Christ was never nailed upon,
A sea of breasts,
A thousand sailing thighs.

I build a tower and I pull it down;
The flying bird’s a feather,
Has no flesh or bone,
Carried by any wind to anywhere.

Go as my wish;
Then I shall go,
But in the light of going
Minutes are mine
I could devote to other things.
Stop has no minutes, but I go or die.

24 with blood to let my love flow in

About my lonely head in flagged unlovely red