The Very Best Friend Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I give and I take nothing, all day long:
No butterflies, and it is funny, funny that I can keep repeating
My desirous song,
When my desire is so far down stream singing out to no one,
Content to go through the little ripples of a
Rain shower, pretending each ripple is its soul,
Sure that it can never drown even as the elfish cannibals surround
The banks of its musical;
And I love you, Sharon, because you are the only girl for miles
And miles: And I am drunk, and you are the only girl in this place,
The only beautiful thing on two legs who hasn’t betrayed me,
Or gone home and fornicated in her fornication place:
And I am getting up early again tomorrow to check again
The furrows I have sown to see if they have sprouted the tender
Heads of my so unfortunate friends, and if they have, then I will
Call you to them, Sharon; and they will rise up harmoniously
And almost cartoonish and I would ask you to kiss them:
Yes kiss them like a little girl with a basket full of rose petals,
Prancing, because you are most desirous; and, yes, even
Trans-lunary you are as luscious as a virgin in her grotto,
Spilling full of blooms and loam; and, yes, you are the best friend,
The very best friend I have never known.