a pastoral poem about the countryside, a traditional poetic genre, but with odd things half-suggested; a load of hay could almost be a load of crap, and if the ages pass like this they're not very interesting; the flowers are a bit cartoony and are either rehearsing something or performing it, reminding us that flowers speak to us, as lots of poems tell us. But whose lines do they speak?from The Guardian: Master of the nonsensical
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