So She Goes Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Naked without snow on the mountains,
I have the feeling she doesn’t need me anymore-
Or if she ever did, she’s too drunk now,
Swinging around like a laughing contraption in his
Arms- So many arms, around and around
With so many hims she goes,
Sometimes hiccupping, and taking tremendous glances
Into the handsome waves she’s falling into-
The repeating natural forces never truly contained
Knocking at her door-
In fact all the world surrounding her is going the way
She goes- Seesawing like a strange accordion into him,
Trying to make money and comfortable time-
I suppose he is her king or something official in
Love. I haven’t spoken to her directly in oh so many years,
And just like anyone else she is probably getting married
And buying a house and painting her nails in it
While looking out through the polished glass
at the yard lamped by tremendous sunlight
Which speaks to her of the children he will father to fill it:
I suppose I’ve never loved anyone,
And she doesn’t turn down those avenues I’ve set up for her
Lined by silver sparking cones, like little men bedecking beneath
The palms for her,
Like sparkling insects or conquistadors
Drumming in the shade of her sashaying skirts-
Those azaleas sway beside the old carport
By the sea‘s one time lullaby-
I planted those for her too,
But now I am so alone and so far away up on the Castillo’s
Walls- You could never see me and say with any certainty
That it is really me:
But he is already sending in the army to take me down,
To make it safe like a windowless wall,
but I am so far away, and her eyes have fallen
From the sea and up above its noisy theatre
where I’ve been dancing madly;
And so she goes.