Those Goverment Employed Automobiles Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Lonely at the sauce, the stars stuttering jobless,
And the prairie is concrete, its orchards golden filigree:
But I still walk,
While the ponies shed off their riders and sip the waves
Like curious paramours lost on their first day
Of high school:
In between classes when the water fountains become an
Oasis and made eeried by the bosom of their perfumes:
And then and at those times the buses laying in
Waiting beneath the proposed of windmills,
And the finest cowboy who ever lives sleeps underneath the
Best of those government employed automobiles.