Tomorrow And Tomorow Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Now I am down for awhile, underneath the planets,
Just as if I was a crèche of airplanes
Slumbering:
Just as if maybe you loved her for a little while,
But then you had to become all stuck up,
While this is just my dream repeating:
Maybe you don’t even have to hold out, silent
Song beautifully managed between the
Breasts of the canyons:
Maybe this is just how I pretend to dissolve,
As the heavens matriculate before the management
Of the better tenements:
Maybe this is just how they do their thing, singing through
Their bereavements, their flagella struggling
Like freshmen:
And this is just a new song in which they have to peruse themselves,
Trying to become better lovers,
While I can stand out and swear, like a unicorn, like
A werewolf,
That this is just the bouquet of another slumber echo- and
I don’t even have to manage to be here-
And I want you now,
But in your houses, the angels sing in their cages,
Of the wonderful but obtainable possibilities of tomorrow,
And tomorrow, and tomorrow.