III.
NANA’S THROWN OUT OF HER FLAT
SHE LIVES IN THE STREET.
The first few days,
in the evening,
she still goes back to the flat,
which watches her;
both
as if prepared for war,
A silent-flash.
Noises
are innocent—hopscotch, cat, cobblestone.
The gate
opens like
a guillotine. Is
combat
engaged? Quietly,
the concierge’s son restrains
restrains Nana,
who cries in vain.
Order is tentatively restored.
The house does
not want
a woman though young and
pretty who
doesn’t pay her
rent. She’ll become a prostitute, then.
She’ll only manage
to salvage
some semblance of her coiffure.
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