I've no doubt that she has places to go. She has lots of friends,
And, since it's Christmas season, they'll call her to parties at hip
Downtown bars. She'll be laughing and warm, two things I am
Not, as I sit by myself by the fire escape doorway, hearing
The hiss of the cold winter wind. I should go out myself,
Leave this shabby apartment, but no one has called me. I'd go
Out alone, and to where, to a miserable neighborhood bar
I can see from my doorway, a refuge for alkies who stagger in,
Mumbling, from hovels like mine? I may as well stay here,
And not spend the money, and wait for the morning, when we're
Back at work. Then I'll desperately search for a reason to get her
To want me closeby when she goes.