Just What They Deserve Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Popgun séances who hear me dancing:
I am dancing, and I am right here,
Underneath the Christmases where the planes pretend
To be touching down,
And maybe they are doing just that in their
Wedding gowns,
As the little girls plummet, as the school girls look far away;
And the busses turn around and around,
Dropping us off fairly underneath the sun, like sailors
Into their warm and striking grottos
That the virgins serve and who anyone, why just anyone:
Alma,
Can get just- just what they deserve.