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page 152
It goes like this First come the loud boys leaping sideways thinner than my heart. The girls say come, come, come and the boys leap, and the wind blows, its small kitten paws smacking the day slightly skew and rosy. They are throwing their arms around you. Oh! how warm they feel! They are throwing their arms around you. Oh! be careful! ~ The men in dark suits cross the stage in formation. They are very tired. They will have a drink standing up. They will head for their cars without seeming to hurry. There are hairbrushes somewhere, waiting for them. ~ At the entrance to the country the women beat drums outside their front doors. They are so angry, their jerseys stretch and snap in the wind. Then they go inside without a word. ~ Oh sad and skinny boys I can’t get past you, you’re like fence staves across my road, knobbly branches broken off and made to stand sentry without a crossbar or knitted arteries of wire to hold you steady, your bony smiles reassure no one. 142
page 153
You have ten ways to stave off hunger, none of them good, and if I tried to hug you you’d be shy and brutal in response, awkwardly you’d stab me and run, and rightly so, you have a gift for leaping through alleys to find shelter from the wind that scours the last flesh from your dreams, the wind in eyes like mine, you fuck and smoke and sleep the hours into a brave history around the thinness of your heart, its eager smile, you know you could do something, if it were only possible. 143

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It goes like this First come the loud boys leaping sideways thinner than my heart.

The girls say come, come, come and the boys leap, and the wind blows, its small kitten paws smacking the day slightly skew and rosy.

They are throwing their arms around you. Oh! how warm they feel! They are throwing their arms around you. Oh! be careful!

~

The men in dark suits cross the stage in formation. They are very tired. They will have a drink standing up. They will head for their cars without seeming to hurry. There are hairbrushes somewhere, waiting for them.

~

At the entrance to the country the women beat drums outside their front doors. They are so angry, their jerseys stretch and snap in the wind. Then they go inside without a word.

~

Oh sad and skinny boys I can’t get past you, you’re like fence staves across my road, knobbly branches broken off and made to stand sentry without a crossbar or knitted arteries of wire to hold you steady, your bony smiles reassure no one.

142

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