excerpt from Office Hours by Thom Gunn

excerpt from Office Hours

First saw him

on the street in front, in the

bar’s garbage, identifying

unfinished beers and swigging

off what was left of them,

shameless and exuberant,

remarking in friendly fashion

“It’s a doggy dog world.”

Charming error. He

had little idea of his looks

caught on a brief sill

between youthful lean times

and blowziness to come,

and too unfocused to try

hustling more than beer

and a night out of the rain.

Later, circling vaguely

the bar’s deep dark inside,

“Hitched up from New Orleans,”

he said. “Here, wanna feel it?”

It was already out

pushed soft into my hand. It was

a lovely gift to offer an old 

stranger

              without conditions

a present from New Orleans

in a doggy dog world.