THE UNCOMPROMISING

Streets, avenues, signs, names, doors,

dust, smoke, tree,self- -interests. It was I

who threw the ring into the plate. Every night the beer pubs

open and close with calculated noise. The windows

are opaque with golden letters. The waiters have gone

to the toilets for a smoke. The other man is tired,

gazes at the floor or the wall, avoids seeing,

avoids showing, avoids naming. Every word

is a betrayal. On the billboard table

the flabby woman is lying naked, hiding

her eaten face in her scant hair

as large flies with cut wings walk on her breasts.