Early Morning Paramours Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Kick up your heels and scream-
Show me the mammalian gardens which make
Me dream- full bore like a conquistador
To explore,
Paying by the hour the things to which I am sure,
The early morning baseball cards,
The diving boards, her bee-stung tits-
And some of this: her birthmarks in the red bloom age
Of a dream,
While her mother is away,
And the dogs are out long tailed checking under
The moon for a dream:
Taking me out there consumptive in a cart,
And I’ll point you out the way,
Nothing I am doing here has been real:
Bicycle thieves are more real than this-
Wait for them after midnight and they will take you away,
And you will never have to dream again:
And now I am bored and waiting for Jordan’s sister
To take off her clothes and swim,
And all of the yard is an excuse for high school and the
Third chapter of aliens,
And things are budding in bunches yet fermented,
And the fox is toothy,
And the airplane is paper folded under the crenulations of
Air-conditioning, I can’t spell,
And my youngest sister should live so many years after
Me; and I’ve been to the bottom of the Grand Canyon three
Times.
But hell- and time is a hummingbird fast-toothed in
Its claret box,
And I am just that gummy toothed fox leaping for the vine
It can never reach- oh hell,
The bus has left me anyways, and it is such a short walk home,
That it should be easy to go and see what fine things
Are waiting for me short skirted, insouciant, singing
Like early morning paramours on the color TV.