Buffalo Brother

You can see it in his eyes, like they say
when an animal gives up, a great mute one
say a buffalo with its hair a matted shroud
even though it couldn't speak you'd tell
it didn't want to live.

There is nothing you can do, you raise your hands
in that attitude. Just listen. He doesn't like
himself, doesn't like the Catholic Club, the people
or the way he tips up the pints. Can't stand
photographs of himself.

When you part you say that in the New Year you'll
talk philosophically but he's already wandered
greets a man on the corner with that blokey grip
the slaps on the shoulder which should raise dust.
You leave, what else is there.