A review by briancrandall
Under Milk Wood: The Definitive Edition by Dylan Thomas

5.0

FIRST DROWNED
How's it above?

SECOND DROWNED
Is there rum and lavabread?

THIRD DROWNED
Bosoms and robins?

FOURTH DROWNED
Concertinas?

FIFTH DROWNED
Ebenezer's bell?

FIRST DROWNED
Fighting and onions?

SECOND DROWNED
And sparrows and daisies?

THIRD DROWNED
Tiddiers in a jamiar?

FOURTH DROWNED
Buttermilk and whippets?

FIFTH DROWNED
Rock-a-bye baby?

FIRST DROWNED
Washing on the line?

SECOND DROWNED
And old girls in the snug?

THIRD DROWNED
How's the tenors in Dowlais?

FOURTH DROWNED
Who milks the cows in Maesgwyn?

FIFTH DROWNED
When she smiles, is there dimples?

FIRST DROWNED
What's the smell of parsley?

CAPTAIN CAT
Oh, my dead dears!
[6–7]

There's the clip clop of horses on the sunhoneyed cobbles of the humming streets, hammering of horseshoes, gobble quack and cackle, tomtit twitter from the bird-ounced boughs, braying on Donkey Down. Bread is baking, pigs are grunting, chop goes the butcher, milk churns bell, tills ring, sheep cough, dogs shout, saws sing. Oh, the Spring whinny and morning moo from the clog dancing farms, the gulls' gab and rabble on the boat bobbing river and sea and the cockles bubbling in the sand, scamper of sanderlings, curlew cry, crow caw, pigeon coo, clock strike, bull bellow, and the ragged gabble of the beargarden school as the women scratch and babble in Mrs Organ Morgan's general shop where everything is sold: custard, buckets, henna, rat-traps, shrimp nets, sugar, stamps, confetti, paraffin, hatchets, whistles.
[34]