Nowhere Else To Go Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I am soon gone:
I will soon be wealthy enough to love
A prostitute
Forever, or at least on good holidays,
As my exlover has married a lawyer;
And your name swings like a phallus upon its
Ever fluming censer,
And I dream that the whore is in love with me
In these eyes of oh so many worlds,
Even if I know that it is only the lackadaisical
Traffics,
Swimming, topless, masturbating,
With your eyes sweltering in the green and Irish
Shallows,
With my hands on my pricks,
If only, if only because
They’ve nowhere else to go.