It's a poem about obsessive-compulsive behaviour with serious consequences! and that does mean serious! There's the "hopeless" sexual complication too and morality having a go as well. From a small book dedicated to all those unfree people — prisoners and others with no leeway ("Poems People Liked")

The tired lock gives

like gossimer.


An old incomprehension

grasps him.


It is a fever

turns him on

like sexuality:


the brute air

spanning nights

of stealth:


the steel pick's

quiet manoeuvre

into place.


He loves

the delicate return

that leaves the loud alarms



The night lights

fester on his face.


You find him where the cold streets meet

deliriously clutching at

the shiny packet

of his sexuality.


It is a time for crying

but this masturbation

has a flavour few will try.



Each undressed woman

draws him on:

a "simple" thief

who will not buy.


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