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These seem like bristles, and the hide is tough.
No claw or web here: each foot ends in hoof.

— Thom Gunn Collected Poems by Thom Gunn (1994)

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More quotes by Thom Gunn

Distorting hackneyed words in hackneyed songs
He turns revolt into a style, prolongs
The impulse to a habit of the time.

One joins the movement in a valueless world,
Choosing it, till both hurler and the hurled,
One moves as well, always toward, toward.

Collected Poems by Thom Gunn (1994)

Direct me gods, whose changes are all holy,
To where it flickers deep in grass, the moly.

Collected Poems by Thom Gunn (1994)

Thus for each blunt-faced ignorant one
The great grey rigid uniform combined
Safety with virtue of the sun.
Thus concepts linked like chainmail in the mind.

Collected Poems by Thom Gunn (1994)

My thoughts are crowded with death
and it draws so oddly on the sexual
that I am confused
confused to be attracted
by, in effect, my own annihilation.

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Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Thom Gunn (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.