Improv - Philip Larkin, "High Windows"

Just as the cold dawn birthed
the obscene disk; naked Sun,
stretching over another hurdle of trees
melted a little more of my friend's face,
offending more of me than i'd
like to write about

last night, the room held up
by pillars i slept under squeaked
a few mousy reminders that i was
to be crushed, little by little,
beneath their solemn fucking.

the next morning in the car
with my friend, the music we played
between tightly shut windows
lessened the hurt a bit, having god
get naked instead of me.