Tarvit Street, 2am
From a littered stage a tireless soprano offers a finale finale
to flaking cherubs. Between heaves, nonchalant propmen
gossip and joke. A dust cloud hangs in the air like a special effect.
Trussed for the road, in tarpaulin, rope, the grand piano
is the last load to go, nose first, grunting and shying at the ramp,
bull obstinate. The opera moves on. Street carousers shadow-waltz
and serenade the neighbourhood with slurred, curse-laden lullabies.
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