Penrose Diner Poem by Ernest Hilbert

New Year's Day

By dawn, the year's emptied out, exhausted.
Stadiums dock like freighters in the fog,
But one well-lit stronghold never locks its doors.

Here, nothing will end or start. Through frosted
Windows, we watch a red, three-legged dog
Roll in the cold street, happy. Abandoned stores
Announce they once sold CHRIS[TM]AS ORNAMENT[S].
The waitresses smell of fresh laundry
And menthol cigarettes, arrive with winks
Like busy nurses. All around is cement,
And there's a hotel in a lot filled with debris.

His cheek's a slug along the glass. "You think
Anyone's been found dead in there? " he says.
She sips slowly at scalding coffee, "oh, yes."