PORTRAIT OF A BARMAID

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METALLIC waves of people jar
Through crackling green toward the bar
Where on the tables, chattering-white,
The sharp drinks quarrel with the light.
Those coloured muslin blinds the smiles
Shroud wooden faces in their wiles—
Sometimes they splash like water (you
Yourself reflected in their hue).
The conversation, loud and bright,
Seems spinal bars of shunting light
In firework-spirting greenery,
O complicate machinery
For building Babel, iron crane
Beneath your hair, that blue-ribbed mane
In noise and murder like the sea
Without its mutability
Outside the bar, where jangling heat
Seems out of tune and off the beat,
A concertina’s glycerine
Exudes and mirrors in the green
Your soul, pure glucose edged with hints
Of tentative and half-soiled tints.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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