17 FEBRUARY 1990, Page 28

Quieter than Clichy

i.m. Alfred Perles 1897-1990

It was not because you met Rilke, Not because of the Henry Miller years, But the way you tapped your temperate glass Every time on the table, saying Ycisoo, Which is Greek in the singular meaning Cheers.

It was even your small perfectly polished shoes.

You turned the chessboard round mid-game for Bruno, Lying unnoticed between you were eighty years.

We file out to the smell of gas-flues, Thin transparent smoke. Do they burn us Toes turned up inside our polished shoes?

A nervous joke, for you Fred, not heartless, Who pretended there was no need to be nervous, Whose tap would soothe the world, by saying Yams.

P. J. Kavanagh