Every Night Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I drink beer and masticate:
To my left there is an entire household of aboveground
Graveyard,
Each grandparent off wandering their stucco tomb,
And at night I always have to masturbate like
A cat on a hot copper roof just to give them something
To listen too:
I try to make it sound like old times,
Like past lives with my flag pole silhouette underneath the
Slash pine with pervasive scoliosis,
And where my futile seed spits, glued with incomplete
Thoughts of your auburn living dead,
Then an entire badland of cops and robbers flumes:
And there is Bonnie and Clyde and
A rat a tat tat:
And the old people turn over in their grave,
And tomorrow it might be tapioca and marshmellows,
But some eternal zygote splashed into their
Extinguishing fireside graves
Will remember how every night I come for you.