Just No One At All Poem by Robert Rorabeck

You give me reasons to pull rabbits and roses
Out of my wounds while I tramp,
While I keep doing this, evading cops who aren’t
Even paying attention, going into the park after midnight
Under the slash pine trees and cursing the various
Neighborhoods you undress in,
So ducky and appreciative of the crocodilian flatulence;
I shouldn’t blame you for all the bullet holes I’ve misquoted,
The friends who are always tossing the sweeter grapes to
You from the higher rungs: you have a hyphened last name,
After all, and a brother who does nothing but does it in
NY, NY- While all I have are my sloppy visions of
Trailer park sommeliers who sell all their wines from boxes
And fish bowls, who ladle out to their smoking fathers the
Incest of their dragon sown fields- Girls without any teeth
Who used to be like angels crossed with wolves,
And who swam like stellar jays and lacquered otters through
Home room and economics, who could crack any sort of
Legume or oyster between their breasts,
Who made me so nervous I never went to school- and they kissed me
Through the shade of palm trees and student parking lots,
So long ago that it might as well have been their younger sisters,
Those things who change into lakes and slender aspens
They have so well forgotten, or according to the nature of
The game, just no one at all.