In This Morning Of Unwieldly Exercise Poem by Robert Rorabeck

If she can live here, I suppose I can live here too,
Even though the breaths of her life are populated by another man:
And she shares his bed right now, while her daughter is singing
And the stars are right up there but so far away;
Like drunks on the roofs whose dreams are turning like carnivals,
Whose dusty cats have become entire lions:
And there is where I have walked for most of my time, lonely and
Out of school, down the dismissed paths unused by the
Populace, through the shady trees which leave little room,
Into the cloudy fiends whose houses have disappeared and whose
Fireworks all lay spent like young do-gooders exhausted and pell-mell
Into the grasses who have been dewed too well to come awake
So early in this morning of unwieldy exercise.