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New Left Review I/35, January-February 1966


Richard Tillinghast

Poems

La Vie Littéraire

Surly, unambitious
the flies languidly
loop the loop near the porch ceiling
It is what passes for
Spring here

Picturing
my wife at work
her arm inside the glass case
reaching for pastries
the customers point to

I push back the afternoon’s responsibilities
mend a screen
Anything
to make her think
I haven’t lolled the day
away
watching tv
doing the crosswords

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