Mr Larkin's Room
This is Mr Larkin’s room. He wrote
The whole time he was at the Library; books
He once said were a load of crap - a quote
If used, to earn you disapproving looks.
A gloomy chap who lived on awful pies
And travelled south at Whitsun on the train
Gawping at marriages with blank surprise -
I think he’d got cheap nylon on the brain.
He wasn’t one for women in his verse:
When sex began in nineteen sixty-three,
Complained it was too late; chose to rehearse
Instead his bleakly flat misogyny.
I’d like his landlady’s real views on him,
And Arnold’s wife (the one who nagged him so);
But could I stand an hour with one so grim
And fucked up by his parents? I don’t know.
Page(s) 48
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