With No One Around Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Nights are cool and sibilant and unreal.
They are the best times to be out,
Alone and drinking
Just off the block of Military Trail where
The girls are always selling,
And now you can think about them safely,
Now that you are getting too drunk to
Drive,
And you can just masturbate to female sailors,
Those leggy stewardesses and busty
Astronauts,
Fail into the maggots eating your jive,
Fail right smack dab into the middle of your class,
Licking your lips over Disney World,
And the hot names of plants used for South Florida
Landscaping:
It’s what you’re selling now, and it would be best
To memorize them,
To be good at your job, just like the mailman knows
And shakes hands with everyone on his
Block:
And the traffic is moving,
While your gut is lazy, and yet the trains seem to be
Hanging out: They could take you to Colorado,
Or back home to your dogs.
Why did you have to leave your dogs? There was
No reason:
Like this night, it was inconsequential and yet so
Profound,
And not a woman on the earth loves you,
But for this second its like magic, remembering their
Pretty plumes and flowers
Brighter than they ever bloomed, even now,
With no one around.