In the Dark

Most people know more as they get older:
I give all that the cold shoulder.

I spent my second quarter-century
Losing what I had learnt at university.

And refusing to take in what had happened since.
Now I know none of the names in the public prints,

And am starting to give offence by forgetting faces
And swearing I’ve never been in certain places.

It will be worth it, if in the end I manage
To blank out whatever it is that is doing the damage.

Then there will be nothing I know.
My mind will fold into itself, like fields, like snow.

by Philip Larkin (1922-1985)

This entry was posted on December 5, 2012 at 10:06 am and is filed under Poetry with tags Philip Larkin, Poetry, The Winter Palace. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.