For You I Hoped To Have Found Poem by Robert Rorabeck

What of this silence, repeating, like days,
And getting on the bus and going to school,
Of getting punched in the lip
By bloated-gut bullies, and skipping class in the
Rain to bundle up under the school busses in
Bruised weeping-
While even then Diana was turning around in her
Part of South America,
More beautiful than anything I have yet to
See on television;
Exotic flowers like the ones they keep trimmed
And sexy in the amusement parks of Central Florida:
What is she doing but flirting with every man who
Comes in carousing under the tent,
Feeding them more for the eyes than with the teeth:
Diana, Diana- it is her, well-bosomed;
I want to buy entire yards for her, while that careless
Jove is away:
I want my house to finally be picked out by her.
I want to meet her daughter, and for her to meet my hounds,
To let them lick and sniff her together with me:
Her stems like crutches against which the entire earth
Weeps- Diana, only I can appreciate you fully picked out
OF all these used car salesmen: Diana, you are making
Your rounds, your native bow propped up against your breast,
And I have gone to see a movie with my favorite teacher,
And I fell asleep and would have dreamed of you,
Except that you didn’t come to me, and so now I must go
Searching, putting rum against my lips, so that my senses might
Spindle out like the waves in a hypothetical shift,
And I can shake off the burning senses of the empirical towns;
I can skip school so many years ago,
Not realizing until now that it was for you I hoped to have
Found.