You do not always know what I am feeling. <br />Last night in the warm spring air while I was <br />blazing my tirade against someone who doesn't <br />interest <br /> me, it was love for you that set me <br />afire, <br /> <br /> and isn't it odd? for in rooms full of <br />strangers my most tender feelings <br /> writhe and <br />bear the fruit of screaming. Put out your hand, <br />isn't there <br /> an ashtray, suddenly, there? beside <br />the bed? And someone you love enters the room <br />and says wouldn't <br /> you like the eggs a little <br /> <br />different today? <br /> And when they arrive they are <br />just plain scrambled eggs and the warm weather <br />is holding.<br /><br />Frank O'Hara<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/for-grace-after-a-party/
