For The Both Of Us Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Cherry blossoms and the rum I hide
Beneath the foldout couch-
I dream that Diane loves me;
And I don’t sell fireworks: I hold out and
Wait for her daughters to awaken on the shell-
Rock road,
Because I want to dance and flirt with them;
I want to touch my own face and feel good about it;
And the things that have died in their own sea
Are dancing above it
While I am still trying to swing, to breathe out for
A long distance like a stewardesses flirting on her
Fieldtrip to Spain;
And I want my words to appear just as beautiful
As a naked terrapin;
I want them strung out and bawdy:
I want them to undress my two awful muses and stroke
Them until they come together like comrades in a game
Saying my name;
And I want to be a lost girl with dirty fingernails
And tangles of curls knotted in the tall cabbages;
And I want to see my own face and smile,
And be blinded by the sea which is always crinkling like
Uselessly wrapped presents under the naked fir trees:
I want to be just as beautiful as you are for me,
And I want to wake up tomorrow making love to you;
And our children to follow waking up, scared
And beautiful every morning before the bus to the sound
Of our love making in the house at the tops of
This impossible forest so we can climb up together
And keep a look out for the both of us.