Chris Pitts

Severalls Hospital

The Maniac lies dead on the asylum floor, slowly old ghosts drag home. A mumbling, fretting sound, like a lonely dog, echoes down the long corridors of hopeless sanctuary. Where God seems not to care, and forced endurance is seen in eyes of those encamped around death. Once young men and women of the world,

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Mad Abstraction

Got up this morning to the mind circus, masses of memory flowers invaded my conscience. A log floating down an old Suffolk river passing a small white boat, why so vivid that day when dad and me lazed in the wonder of that long English summer? These days I can hardly remember my name, but

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Suffolk Sunset

Vast measureless sunset, I look into your miles, I once came to you new every evening, when you spoke to us of your glories, and the young men and women of England dreamed through the smile of your timelessness. Darkened by the evening’s ashes, we now search your skies, fires smolder where we once stood

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