It's Still Early Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Anywhere can be beautiful,
If I hadn’t planned to be there and
Found you quietly breathing in a
Glade of second grade tulips;
And it made me believe in the pastel
Resurrecting of a god who wasn’t
Even mine;
You that cute sort of breasted deity,
Never minding how the ants crawled and
Perspired on your unscarred parts,
Like an entire zoological collection,
A leggy car- Oh, how so easily you forgot
Me, perhaps even now forgetting your
Erstwhile pills, doing phallacio,
Trying to get a jumpstart on teenage pregnancy;
But I’m just kidding,
Because aren’t you even now eclipsing thirty,
And pretty soon I’m sure you’ll have a
Hyphened last name,
A two car garage, and a dog scratching on
All your doors and four-post beds-
I’m sorry if this poem is dirty, because I’m
Drunk and that is just how it is;
You see, the teacher thought that I’d brought this
For her,
And the entire colony followed me in and started
Dripping honey while you practiced beautifying your
Cursive; and this makes me laugh,
That I should have to pay a toll to draw on your
Bridge, to take off your panties,
But didn’t I already apologize for this poem being
Dirty- You see, I’m getting drunk
But its still early.