I'Ll Sing Your Name (But I Am Just Drunk) Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I'Ll Sing Your Name (But I Am Just Drunk)



I said I loved you,
But I’m drunk- The only way I could
Get you to look at me would
Be to die,
But I’m too afraid: Listen to the clacking keys
As they promenade:
If any better they would make the sulky
Race through the oracular glade:
I won’t write to you directly,
But I’ll sing your name- Erin,
Why do I sing your name?
With every night and every poem,
I sing your name:
If it ever goes down,
If I go down as something, it will
Be your shame:
Erin, why should it be your name, if you
Shouldn’t make your name mine?
I want you to be mine, but isn’t that just the
Liquor speaking,
Isn’t that just the mother’s concern,
And now who do I hear echoing around each and
Every impossible turn?
Why, it’s just you, Erin- Isn’t it?
Because I’m drunk- And I spent $500 hundreds
Dollars today, Erin, to go down a new path
Just as far adjacent to yours as my old one;
But I guess it is still just as beautiful in this weeping
Orchard not concerning all the ankle-deep
Weeds, Erin,
And the stolen watermelons. Won’t you
Show me your naked breasts, Erin?
But I am just drunk, and the new born foal
Is dying.

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Robert Rorabeck

Robert Rorabeck

Berrien Springs
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