Just As Well Poem by Robert Rorabeck
Just As Well
There it is: On a plate of baseball,
Or its richness of paganisms the witches fly
On their brooms
On their anyways- looked up upon by little
Boys off their masturbating in their
Untidied rooms,
Like sinners at the beach, and the sky another god
To believe with the sun running through it
Up and up in its own halations,
Doing its damnedest just as well to believe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/6/2024 12:02:14 AM # 1.0.0.1119
