People at Night

A night that cuts between you and you

and you   and you   and you

and me : jostles us apart, a man elbowing

through a crowd.          We won't

                    look for each other, either-

wander off, each alone, not looking

in the slow crowd. Among sideshows

                    under movie signs,

                    pictures made of a million lights,

                    giants that move and again move

                    again, above a cloud of thick smells,

                    franks, roasted nutmeats-

Or going up to some apartment, yours

                    or yours, finding

someone sitting in the dark:

who is it really? So you switch the

light on to see: you know the name but

who is it ?

          But you won't see.

The fluorescent light flickers sullenly, a

pause. But you command. It grabs

each face and holds it up

by the hair for you, mask after mask.

                    You   and   you and I   repeat

                    gestures that make do when speech

                    has failed          and talk

                    and talk, laughing, saying

                    'I', and 'I',

meaning 'Anybody'.

                              No one.