Eyes that are huge sweat drops
Unheeded by the struggle underneath them—
Throughout the night you stagger under walls
Where life is squeezed to squealing bitterness.
Beneath your heaving flash of limbs
Your thoughts are smashed to a dejected trance
And you are swept, like empty mites,
Into a glistening frenzy of motion....
Yet, on a Sunday afternoon
I have seen you straightening your backs with slow smiles;