Unfortunate Souvenir Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Cherry red souvenir,
I see that you have no motor,
So what is it that animates you,
Going homeless down the streets,
Trucking your bad language
Spitting watermelon seeds-
One could almost say that I thought
I knew you,
But that was in the past when there
Was still cities,
And you had steady work-
I could see that you were in demand from
The windows,
But now it’s just the wind, androgynous;
It doesn’t even care to call your name,
And yet you still move-
There must have been something inside
You that you’ve stolen,
Or is it only something make believe:
There you go, slightly out of orbit now
When you used to sing:
I thought I saw you, but
Now there isn’t anybody left in to believe.