The Pitch-Fork Pines Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I can make the sound for you:
I can make the sound:
I can say your name a resurrect for you from the ground;
But you never did care enough for me
While I was around:
I can make the sound for you: I can make the sound:
I can thoroughly arise for you,
Arise from the very ground: I can carry to town for you:
I can carry to town:
All the things I ever grew for you, the cornucopias that I misspoke
And misspelled for you,
While the night vanishes, while the day harrumphs- Haroomphs:
I can forgive you underneath the
Long and pointed crowns of
The pitch-fork pines: we can wait for hurricanes,
Or I can just go down on you-
I can just go down.