Just The Average Dream Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Oh discombobulated house behind the citrus
Tree, Can’t I enter you
And hang up my scars, and drink sour whiskey:
Oh what a night when all the street lamps
Glow,
The cars return, late night talk shows.
Beauty queens jog, patinas and tits-
We pay our mortgage and polish salty clits;
Through the house a gondola, a wet avenue,
Rose bushes in back of the city zoo.
Juxtaposed between the confections of sky
And the briny sea, words composed between scoliosis
Back and scabby knee; My little sister has eyes that
Weep at the bottom of the hill where they
Water the dreamy sheep- Where up go Jack
And down come Jill- Just the average dream, please-
Is what I deserve at the end of the cul-de-sac
And the lip of the curb.