nighthawks at the diner
of Emma's 49er there's a rendezvous
of strangers around the coffee urn tonight
all the gypsy hacks the insomniacs
now the paper's been read
now the waitress said
eggs and sausage and a side of toast
coffee and a roll hash browns over easy
chile in a bowl with burgers and fries
what kind of pie?
In a graveyard charade a late shift masquerade
2 for a quarter dime for a dance
with Woolworth rhinestone diamond
earrings and a sideway's glance
and now the register rings
and now the waitress sings
the classified section offered no direction
it's a cold caffeine in a nicotine cloud
now the touch of your fingers
lingers burning in my memory
I've been 86ed from your scheme
I'm in a melodramatic nocturnal scene
I'm a refugee from a disconcerted affair
as the lead pipe morning falls
and the waitress calls
eggs and sausage and a side of toast
coffee and a roll hash browns over easy
chile in a bowl with burgers and fries
what kind of pie?