Just So Buy Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Going down the road are cars:
Cars full of family inherited to their declinations:
Fathers drive, and mothers watch out,
And Spot is sticking out his tongue enjoying the
Shampoo of uneven light;
And I know I have seen this time and again while
Coming out of sleep:
I think it was that I ran away from some school, and there
Was a lot of woods,
And then this highway which entrenched me:
I cannot pass because of this busy river,
All of these laughing families spindled from the loins
Of two pilots ever leaping in and out of bed and also breakfast:
So I must wait here while I can hear the bugle fading in
The distance: whoever it was has given up hunting
For me,
But I wish they would come: maybe it was my mother in
A purple dress: maybe my father carried a devil’s lamp two shades
Above his head,
But if it is them they are growing more distant, while this
Traffic is always building:
Soon I think they will flow over the cliffs and over my shoulders
If I lie down beneath their hard choruses of chassis,
But I do not think that it is they mean any harm:
They are just so busy at dancing.