Blue Faucet Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I am killing myself for evil causes.

Like the rest of it, I often wonder
Who the boss is,

But don’t we get the just of it,
Especially when we’re lit,
High flying, agnostic,

I wanted to love her, but she was already
Wearing my closet:

The dogs are circling the bush,
Or they are making a deposit:

I wish to god I was on an airplane being
Entertained by a stewardess,
As we leap together, mostly inebriate,
Over the inextinguishably
Blue faucet.