Follow Me Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Long day envelops me:
I drive past the president on highway-70,
And it is a rusted ride full of strange,
Slow motion appeasements.
Rival take my house-
I don’t care- I sneak into libraries.
I read Leonard Cohen for free and
Masturbate,
And then deep in the night that
I shouldn’t say,
I drive past the university,
And see slender, peeked students making
Love over some nameless bridge,
Over the Mississippi,
And how they touch, how languidly,
Like the gently driven cadences;
And it don’t matter that they really shouldn’t
Love- I will buy an apartment next to them,
To listen to them making love,
And I will take my dog out at night,
And watch the airplanes skipping,
Pretending that there goes so many important
Men, warriors sailing the heavens
Served by leggy, cup bearing women
Who know how important they are,
And given my studies, I
Should whisper everywhere to no one:
I never found a woman.
I didn’t get rich.
Follow me.