If You Cannot Still Save Me Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I almost gave up again but then I remembered my sister’s
Horses- speckled like the shoulders of the girl
You brought here last night-
And all I can remember of my sister’s wedding is the brick with her and
Her lover’s husband’s name smack dabbed with the other bricks:
And now there is a song, another song coming in with another
Wave,
And I am sweating pot bellied out on the coach, my face as mottled
As something that is really insecure and thus always halfway in between
The metamorphosis that it always seems to seem:
And the day is broken: the day is on the toilet or is the waiting machine
Inside a phone booth that is dead since high school,
And so I weep beside you in the weeds overcoming the grass like a
Movie theatre that has gone to pot,
But otherwise I am good, and I can look up from the little planted tree,
To small for firefighters to ruin, and I can see her looking back at me:
If her name is Sharon, then Alma you don’t remember her,
But she did not save me- so just imagine that this is the parking lot of
A super high school that is still surving,
And Alma you still nook the keystones of my soul, and I am always and
Forever climbing up into your treeless bosom;
And, Alma, why I’ll be damned if you cannot still save me.