Divine For You Poem by Robert Rorabeck

The night is here in a private romance I have forced
Upon the stage,
And Alma knows that I cannot cook, and she makes fun of
Me for buying my clothes at the thrift
Store,
Even though I caught a forty pound king fish for her and watched
Its dying straight into my eyes
While Anibal told me it was a night I would never forget;
And I suppose I wont, just like there are words too intelligent for
Me to ever come back to use;
But I was the drunkest man on the boat, and I swam my songs
Out to you and your brownest of wings,
Still dreaming that there was something left in my points to prove,
While the sea kissed me,
And bobbed with the greatest and most hollowest of moons,
And I suppose there was something in the strangest of reasons for
The divinest of providences,
While my dogs were the lonliest and away, while you sister is
Turning fifteen today;
And I suppose very soon she will strike out and get married;
And I don’t suppose that there is anyone yet in your family who has
Finished high school.
And I suppose that is why they will all someday soon have to work
For my father,
And to think him beautiful, while the sea swims greener and more
True;
Alma, all day long I think of you while the airplanes swim;
And I want to drink of your lips and douse and divine for you,
But all you want to do
Is blow out your candles and go to sleep in his arms,
He who is always the most untruest to you.