Poem (Don't look...)
Don't look.
The world's about to break.
Don't look.
The world's about to chuck out all its light
and stuff us in the chokepit of its dark,
That black and fat suffocated place
Where we will kill or die or dance or weep
Or scream of whine or squeak like mice
To renegotiate our starting price.
Restaurant
No, you're wrong.
Everyone is as beautiful
as they can possibly be
Particularly at lunch
in a laughing restaurant
Everyone is as beautiful
as they can possibly be
And they are moved
by their own beauty
And they shed tears for it
in the back of the taxi home
Harold Pinter
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