They would love to see me dead, so they say: He belongs to us, he is ours.
For twenty years I have heard their footsteps on the walls of the night.
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An unusual, surrealist dialogue, but one which never wavers. 'I' and the hostile 'they', who are on the point of killing him. Wine is used skilfully here to defuse tension and change the atmosphere from dark to lighthearted.
A fine poem.
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An unusual, surrealist dialogue, but one which never wavers. 'I' and the hostile 'they', who are on the point of killing him. Wine is used skilfully here to defuse tension and change the atmosphere from dark to lighthearted. A fine poem.