Bight By Bight Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Where are you? My heart is cold and un-pure:
I will like it to stop before I got to the top of the apex
Of the house which should be ours- Erin?
You don’t care- I am a terribly asymmetrical boy,
And the money I should have by the end of the year is
Of no account:
I just want to put you into my car and drive as fast as
I can out into the wildlife preserve to show you what
History I can find,
Because here is where my parents fed the elephants the
Extra lettuce heads when they were only teenagers:
Now it is almost all stampeded, and I shouldn’t know if
I am cute are not: and who have you been spreading our
Pedals for- who have you let steal your bicycle time and
Time again- and I am really, really not doing very good,
Even if I’ve buried the witch under the blown out candles,
I didn’t really give her much of a chance:
And all of you girls are so beautiful- Kick up your legs
For death, show him what you’ve got, and put your children
Out before you like presents on a satanic Christmas,
Show him what he might else take before you;
But he will come none the less, sucking in all that light- all the
Skating waffish wishes;
And the moon will stare down, like a policeman out on his
Watch speaking Spanish to himself,
Too afraid to come, even as death consumes you with his heavy
Uninsured teeth, bight by bight by bight by bight….