Like My Dogs Poem by Robert Rorabeck

We vend into crepuscule,
And I think of nothing all that time-
And my parents, white headed, dance;
And my aunt, she dances-
And then they leave me to myself, stealing my home,
My shell- and they go out to eat,
And I am left outside, while my dogs are in Arizona;
But I have something that is fifty proof
Stolen from a house today- but my belief is that
Liquor is communal, and it is fifty proof,
Like a coin, it can go down on either side;
And there is a canal to the back of this property where
The more than half empty failures of life proceed:
There are two horses in this yard and they eat our old
Tomatoes,
And I am pressed up against this house to which I have
A key but no permission,
And the sky is wide and full of illusions, all those airplanes
The old people sing there memories to,
Or moan like my dogs for want of my:
Like my dogs, I moan for you.