ARTIFACTS

the fluorescent light
rubs against the Formica

standing stiff on a table
a saltshaker often lingers
with greasy fingers

many a shoe
has trampled on this rug
and so it wriggles
fade and parched
as a vase begging for water

when the doors shut up their trap
the couch will stretch out with deaf years
in front of a TV set,
chatterbox intent on
speaking by itself

in the meantime chairs
sit in clusters, staring at each other,
then turn their backs in a fit of temper,
concentrating on their own emptiness

the hunger provides
that the plates keep busy,
knives and forks scramble
whilst napkins take pains
to assemble the remains

a cigarette calls for a coffee that calls for a cigarette,
matches forget
their winglets in the air

in the looking glass the bathroom
skims its face,
puts itself together,
taps relieve their needs,
and vents scatter around the tracks
of those back in business

in the light which escapes
through a window pane
flocks of bills fly away
in their usual patterns:
money
money
money