When getting my nose in a book. Cured most things short of school, It was worth ruining my eyes. To know I could still keep cool, And deal out the old right hook. To dirty dogs twice my size. Later, with inch-thick specs, Evil was just my lark: Me and my coat and fangs. Had ripping times in the dark. The women I clubbed with sex! I broke them up like meringues. Don't read much now: the dude. Who lets the girl down before. The hero arrives, the chap. Who's yellow and keeps the store. Seem far too familiar. Get stewed: Books are a load of crap.(A Study Of Reading Habits)
Philip LarkinAbout author
- Author's profession: Poet
- Nationality: english
- Born: August 9, 1922
- Died: December 2, 1985
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