Inside this Shanty

There’s so much space left inside this shanty
that twenty people could stand here
But I do not want to allow anyone
to enter its desolate anguish
Someone or the other turns up nevertheless
trampling on my desire as if it were dry grass
Someone, anyone, shows up, an ant looking for a grain
a forlorn cow, a wandering dog
I hesitate to turn them down
This is the reason for my silence on countless matters

INSIDE THIS SHANTY