Together or alone they come,
Hover moth-like lipped with shade,
Then wing despairing into light
And into boredom...
Glasses brimming, chunked with light:
Or shattered beggar-like in corners,
Guttered, cast away...
Men and women etched in shadows
Bulging heads together leaning
Closer, clinging, sealing, tearing -
Gone. Into another
smoke.
Bitter. “Cigarette?”
“No thanks.”
The sycophantic alto-sax
Shrills and sobs its tortuous call
Throughout the night;
But no-one hears.
For they are gone far down now,
Down
Into their separate togetherness...
Time bleeds by:
The blinkered dark recoils before the dawn.
Together or alone they go.
(Undated, 1962?)
