If You Must Look For Me Poem by Robert Rorabeck

If you must look for me, do so now,
For my temples will soon be done molting,
And after I’ve taught my dog to speak, I’ll
Smoke a fine cigar as I walk away,
My pockets chewing money; though I’ll
Whistle for a ways, but its not because I’d
Want you to find me,
For it is such a sunny day, along the avenues
Which run so swiftly by the cemetery, and the
Clouds are pages on their way over the burlesque
Sorority, where southern bells swoon off their
Bidets, blowing kisses to burly mailmen on their
Way home to the misses, while children on the
Swing set kick their feet over burry ditches,
And latchkey kittens mew and sway their tails
Up the jumbled gutter, were blindly hungry chicks have
Given themselves away;
Little girls pass by gingerly on glittering roller-skates,
Down the windy hill-way, wishing they had three wishes,
And grandmothers sing and do their dishes from the kitchen,
And I am almost all the way,
All the way to the end of the sidewalk; The day is passing
Through, and that is nothing beside me, for you have
Walked away, you have walked away,
And left me nothing to do, but to do what you already
Decided; If you must look for me, do so now,
For the day is gently gliding, dousing the trees in their black
Well, turning off the library, but there is no one beside me to kiss and tell,
As you have walked away,
Leaving only my slipping shadow beside me.