To Be Anybody's Wife Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Sometimes the sky feels bad out of love
And churns up her clouds like boiling degrees, like
Throwing things out of all of her windows:
Then there are too many words like tourists picnicking on
Deadpan mountains,
Like sweat pearled in the brow of a snobbish bride;
And I lay on my back while the better men get better
And fatten at your picking time:
Then tankards of trucks make noise through the jurisdiction
Of your windows;
It is a very long country I am thinking about with no messes
And you live there, just because you are just good
Enough to be anybody’s wife.