Poem of the week - "Wires" by Philip Larkin

Taking a break from Borges this week. Philip Larkin was a British poet and a somewhat morose, dude. Most of his poems deal with issues like getting old, forgetting things, and other such tragedies of life. Larkin didn't publish much in his lifetime and his entire production of poetry has been published as a slim book.

Without further ado here is "Wires":

The widest prairies have electric fences,

 For though old cattle know they must not stray

 Young steers are always scenting purer water

 Not here but anywhere. Beyond the wires

 Leads them to blunder up against the wires

 Whose muscles-shredding violence gives no quarter.

 Young steers become old cattle from that day,

 Electric limits to their widest senses.

Short, jarring ("muscles-shredding violence"), and downright gloomy. Just the way I like I poetry.