Beggar,

Starveling,

Plate-glass dreams, steel shutters

Maybe.

But all steel rusts

All locks fail—

This is not Canon Law.

Here bare feet

Are bleeding,

The gems of society

Are chisel-edged.

God-beggar

There are no paving-sets in the street,

You cannot heave a sheet of concrete.

At the road’s end the fog falls

Softly as an old quilt

On a prostitute’s morning.