I Always Find Myself Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Asphodels in the glorious equipages of
Unmined bedrooms where the canaries still sing,
And I ejaculate on the green carpet
And kiss the paperclip nosecones of paper
Airplanes:
And when I am alone I can go outside and shoot
Off fireworks into the blistering night,
And try to look up the skirts of the goddess who lives
On my roof,
Because I don’t have any money, but I have so much
Time:
And maybe I am feral, and maybe I rhyme:
Maybe I can only ride my bicycle around in my own
Neighborhood:
And maybe I don’t know why it is that the sky floats
Or why it is that girls love the men that they do,
But the bus always takes me home past the den of foxes
And to the symphony of torpid lions,
And when I am walking my way alone across the
Murky rink of the canal’s hotel room,
Why it is, Alma- that I always find myself thinking of you.