A common appetite for language

De Viris Illustribus
by Jim McCabe

Knowing you will not calm down
Till I am half mad myself,
I concede to you that our life
Is half worthless and full of
Terror. Nothing left for show,
We drink, two old waterbuffalo
Scarred at the drinking hour.

And what is it keeps us here:
Absolute loyalty, of a sort,
Humour, Intimacy - the comfort
And jealousy that springs on
Us. We are locked in a common
Appetite for language, for
The silences that were women passing.

From The Spectator, 18 February, 1989