The letters H, v., and O are central to Harrison's poetry. "H" in the play "The Big H," and many of Harrison's poems on language and class, stands for dropped aitches--missed rungs in his "ladder of aspiration," and for the chain of association he makes from the [h]owl of the Leeds City coat of arms to Herod, H-block, H-bomb, and Hiroshima. "H" is also celebrated in its absence, in loving reaffirmations of the bonds of dialect, class, and family. The verses/versus of Harrison's most controversial piece, "v.," are echoed in the "v-signs" and other invective of the angry dispossessed to whom his polyphonic writing gives a voice. "V" also stands for victory--the dearly-bought victories of wars, explored with the concomitant themes of imperialism and political propaganda. The black O haunts Harrison's work. The abyss; the nothingness of death, the extinction of personality, of art, of languages, of species, perhaps even of humankind; is figured in black burn-out circles, pits, mines, and empty skies. Its obverse is another O, where life is affirmed--the acting circle of Harrison's theatre work. Lucid and trenchant, Byrne's study is now the benchmark for students of Harrison's work.