Jack Beeching
The Liar
All will go well only if one persuades
Another all goes well; but through that door
Come contradictors, those who bear in mind
Matters of fact. Their faces coalesce,
Become one face and one unpleasant voice,
Their answers hinting at their disbelief.
Values have faded from the hand of cards,
An empty purse, or tremor in the night
Liar’s omnipotence. Those large, bright words
Making potential very nearly real
Were to impose what others dare not choose.
Better go quickly, knock upon that door
With a certain smile. Across your public face
Pull a hood called suicide: if no one hears,
Choose deafness, and if no one answers, silence.
Page(s) 22-23
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