Girls I Sometimes Like Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Oh these dreams pass me by like
School buses pass my truancy- I hang out in the
Speckled eaves of the Florida Holly;
And dream of Saturday morning cartoons and
Multisided dice, that the bullies will not
Mess with me:
And by now she has an entire house populated with
Updated domesticity,
And a pool, and a cat, and a extra bedroom to store
Her extra;
But I don’t want to live forever- I want to be able
To go through doorways which don’t lead to anywhere-forever,
Or dinner parties, or the first draft of Alice:
I want to get wasted on turtle glue and fresh water
Anemones- I don’t want anything more than to be able
To raid the refrigerator, or for girls I sometimes like
To sometimes read my poetry- Now its after midnight
And the useless things are changing again,
Even more useless- the failing of my little toy men
Go back on the shelves of my bedroom,
And I’ve skipped out of my skull, smelling her down
The burnished hall where the Mexican ladies have been
Cleaning so brightly; and I’d like to catch her in the turnaround
The next time we have a fire drill, spin her around her
Slender waist were everything about me can fit several
Times over, and end this thing in a secret haunt, in a brash
Keyhole up in the Rockies, to bend her supple lips against
My stone hard pricks, to lie her in the shadows looking down
And confess unto her heady brevity- That she’s had children
By other men, and afternoons to joy;
But that’s just the beginning of the reservations I would make
For her- I’d show her such delightful iconoclast epiphany;
Now that I have spoken my peace,
And smoked the bright amusement laying on the flesh river
And tracks of her ride, I should lay off and finally dream,
And so impose myself like the childish magic of a paper airplane,
Flown from my fingers underneath the ceiling fans which halo her:
That’s all I have to say to her.