The Only One Still Fresh Enough To Truly Love Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Choking and spitting the asparagus and the meat
Of your better man,
But not the one who gave you that child,
Your fireman, your blue anchor who is never sad,
While I just spread out my words to feed the
Pigeons: They don’t even care anymore, but I think
It’s been a long time since they’ve
Enjoyed their feeding,
Because my heart is severed and well stocked in
The rolling concession stand driven around by
The beautiful Columbian named Diana:
Her no good husband out gallivanting somewhere
In the airplane wrecked jungles of South America,
Her other man home all day making love
To American women and watching game shows:
I would say that what I have is not a crush but
And oral fixation,
But there is my major romantic organ on sale
Cooling just above the stockyards of ice:
I wonder what she’ll charge me- Maybe more or less
Than the next guy,
But it will be my heart she is feeding us,
The only one still fresh enough to truly love.