I Didn'T Even Need A Car Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Dictated to by high society,
I tried my best,
But the wild scuppernongs called me better far deeper
In the backyards
Unattended to by the wildeyed and learned
Younger professors;
And so I went, leaping, until there was no turning
Back,
Pretending I was an airplane
Who was too wide and bright eyed to turn around,
I soon became lost and sad,
And too wonderful to be exhibited because
No one would know rightly what I was,
And they certainly wouldn’t take me for
Any old kind of marvel;
And it got so cold being outside of anyone’s country,
Lost in the cruel caesuras which came and went
Like a housewife’s knife cutting kale and
Rutabaga for dinner.
Left without the spasming warm of your natural declivities,
Which was all I was shooting for,
This arrow of spikenard and come- I didn’t need
Any other language or clothing style.
I didn’t even need a car-
I just wanted to make love to you.