In this dream that dogs me I am part
Of a silent crowd walking under a wall
Leaving a football match, perhaps, or a pit
All moving the same way. After a while
A second wall closes on our right
Pressing us tighter. We are now shut in
Like pigs down a concrete pa**age. When I lift
My head, I see the walls have k**ed the sun
And light is cold. Now a giant whitewashed D
Comes on the second wall, but much too high
For them to recognise: I await the E
Watch it approach and pa**. By now
We have ceased walking and travel
Like water through sewers, steeply, despite
The tread that goes on ringing like an anvil
Under the striding A. I crook
My arm to shield my face, for we must pa**
Beneath the huge, decapitated cross
White on the wall, the T, and I cannot halt
The tread, the beat of it, it is my own heart
The walls of my room rise, it is still night
I have woken again before the word was spelt