– No, not at all. Society won’t have that as a truth though, will it? Society says that we must communicate in mainstream ways only. We must conform to what is expected or we shall be ostracised, or worse. Having our own thoughts to respond to the institutions that raise us is almost impossible. It makes people weary just to think about it. What would we do without the distraction of words ordered into a structure that keeps us behaving in the way the structures want us to? Without such tyranny and obedience to language, would we more clearly see the actual mechanics of the machine out there and inside here? All around us and in every atom. We are trained like Pavlov’s dog – to respond to an endless supply of fake and essentially empty reward-based systems. We seek the approval of things that are not even real. How do we ever see the machine clearly for what it is? All structures have been built to manipulate us into believing that they are the powerhouse, that they are the mains supply – so if they get disconnected all the lights go out. As if they are the only word and reason and hope… If we ever truly managed to see that monstrous machine – that ungeziefer – clearly for what it is, all the structures would fail.

– Every one?

– They are failing already, my friend.

– Society can’t continue like this?

– No. You mark my word, all the structures are going to come down, one by one, like this building.

Bill picks up his hat and places it over his eyes to take a nap.

John lays down beside him on the futon, the two of them tucked under a blanket. The poet never makes any attempt to touch him unless he indicates in some slight way that he wants it first.

– Thank you for not… expecting anything from me.

– Why would I expect anything from you? I am not one of those predatory older male homosexuals, John. I find them such a bore and to be honest, lately, I’d rather just have company. Sex is not everything – is it?

– No.

John physically drops his shoulders in relief.

– It’s not that I hate to do it, Bill.

– It’s just that you… hate to do it?

– I do.

– It’s okay.

– Do you think I’m a freak?

– No, I think you’re a divine being of complex and nuanced wonder.

John gets up to make more tea.

– There’s biscuits, or Benzedrine?

– A little Benzedrine is always welcome. I do have opiates that are a touch stronger though. I may have to imbibe again soon but not if it bothers you.