The letters H, v. and O are central to the poetry of Tony Harrison. H in the play The Big H, and many of Harrison's poems on language and class, stands for dropped aitches - missed rungs on 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-omb 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 species, perhaps even of humankind - is figured in black, burnt-out circles, pits, mines and empty skies. Its obverse is another O, where life is affirmed - the acting circle of Harrison's theatre work.