Just About Anybody's Pool Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I drink alone to the usual sounds:
The night in somnolent rush through the softly exploded
Palms,
Picking dun cones,
Yeah, and the racehorses far away, the men hanging themselves,
The ever tremulous palms,
Like feather blades,
Cutting the shadows like generous birthday cake
Without any candles and without any love,
Giving off the perfume of tomorrow’s wishes,
And the slender fact that I might
Live forever,
Or that this is just Disney World, and I’ve never ridden
A roller coaster with a girl I truly loved,
And the fare is only in town for a week,
But I don’t really need to make love to you,
Just to hold your balmy hand through the reckless Midway,
And win for you all the prizes that I can
That you can put in the trash after tomorrow,
When the teddy bears with sad button eyes have wilted,
After the milk and the goldfish and all the moon has
Gone sour,
And you’ve found better men to love,
Because this is your thing, and all I am doing is my best
To pleasure you remotely from far away
Atop this esplanade of insatiable alligators and the homeless
Conquistadors
Always hung-over and willing to do any job just to get one
Look at you sunbathing topless juxtaposed against just
About anybody’s pool.