All-Nite Lunchroom

Acrobats on tightwires;

Ladder on their noses;

A dancer on the ladder.

And we on her shoulders

Clutching and queasy

Stare at blurring earth.

Rain shakes the window.

"Hey, guy, more coffee."

In the all-nite joint

Grins our shallow nature.

LOVE POEM

My clumsiest dear, whose hands shipwreck vases,

At whose quick touch all glasses chip and ring,

Whose palms are bulls in china, burs in linen

And have no cunning with any soft thing

Except all ill-at-ease fidgeting people:

The refugee uncertain at the door

You make at home; deftly you steady

The drunkard clambering on his undulant floor.

Unpredictable dear, the taxi drivers' terror,

Shrinking from far headlights pale as a dime

Yet leaping before red apoplectic streetcars-

Misfit in any space. And never on time.