on Edward Hopper’s Chop Suey, 1929
for M.E.C.

How melancholy
Hopper’s painting
ought to be:
the window clouded, the lamp unlit in his dim room.
We take in
two women, inward bent
the curve of their shoulders and round cloche hats
work-weary, both, but this—
the arrival and tired pause before
a good talk with a good friend, Hopper
is only the start of it.
Tomorrow will bring
the quick clack of typing, shrill telephone rings
coffee, small and tepid
lost hours, ticking by
on an electric clock
clapping of heels, dulled on damp concrete
long turns of fire escape silence.
Hopper, give them this, at least—
an hour’s worth of company
under neon lights that darken, flash.

Image via Wikimedia