Suicidal Munchkin Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Watching the Wizard of Oz,
I dream of Tyco Brahe’s nose, and serious
Fights between scientists and their
Dwarfs;
And map paintings of stars and their hills;
And sadly, ever so sadly,
Erin- of dryads who have no love for mortal men:
Her busts are a ballad of a perfectly nippled
Power plant;
Her perfume the rich streams of auburn kelp
The gold fish show off through until they
Are scooped out and made for prizes
Of redneck lovers at the fair;
But she does not need to worry, because I am
Too uneasy for Occam’s Razor, Erin:
For easy love:
I am not beautiful Erin, and whoever you are loving
Right now,
It is a better love than I could return to you, if
My face was a mirror for your vanity-
Tesla never made love to a woman, but he lived in
Fancy hotels in Colorado Springs;
And he invented electricity until it was stolen away,
And I am left hanging;
And I only went away from you to find new inventions of
Tender muses,
Of other high school valleys too beautiful to ever have
Stopped romancing about, I suppose; Erin,
But do not feel uneasy; these are your dreams the laboratory
Mice are spinning,
And maybe I will buy a house under my imperfect
Angle underneath the distant Pleiades;
But please, please don’t ever come to visit me.