Going As It Goes Poem by Robert Rorabeck

And your boyfriends have wax dreams;
But how many of those do you have, Like there
Are only so many words in this book:
And books to fill the shelf, and hours to spend our days:
To awaken and groom and to join you on
The bicycle ride or the bus, without even having to know
Your name;
Like basking for a moment in one of that shadows that
Has escaped your bedroom,
Whilst the sun was coming up so haughtily and strange;
While the lesbians frisks in the pools of their chlorinated
Graves;
And Kelly, you come up like a basketful of bouquets
Chagrining the lions mouth,
The pinion in the staves; and your brow is sweaty until
The body of your censer is hung down, Kelly;
As I wish I could sing for you in brighter and more balmy
Ways;
But your body hangs down Kelly, and I am speechless as it
Goes, panting, saying the name of its loved ones,
And going as it goes.