Before The Reaper Could Own Him Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Do you realize even now, Kelly, that you are playing with
The Grim Reaper:
This savage scythe who will pretend to never touch the
Harvest of your legs until called upon,
But you have already awakened me; and if I am not beautiful,
I still come;
And I will eat your boat:
I will eat your canoe: I already know the way, and I write these
Things.
And I meet the president and congratulate him and then they
Put me on a coin but I don’t care,
And now all of these things are in a zoo, and maybe they think they’ve
Captured me but I don’t care:
I am Houdini: I can set myself free, even if I don’t know myself:
Even if your mother is a lesbian,
And there are all these free formed sharks in the sea:
I am not a beautiful man, Kelly;
But still you kissed me; but still I have this need to die:
Maybe I will awaken tomorrow and be the star suckling like a little
Scar from Sharon’s bosom,
And maybe I will be quieted for awhile, maybe I will be perfect for a
Moment in which you cant hope to know me,
And then I will steal your sister away to Mars and make to love
Her and infect you brain with forgetfulness so that you
Fall deep in love with you husband again:
Deep, deep in love like Briar Rabbit in the thorns he always wished
To be thrown in before the reaper could own him, own him.