Little Office In The Gloom Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I’ve never battled with the ancients,
And she kisses you and spins on you:
I don’t know what to do with this spear:
The angles of battleships are very sweet going down
Amidst the gawking icebergs.
Venal muses ringing bells in the sky don’t care-
They lift a leg and fart and then savage more
Sugar cane for their rum:
They bight the tails of puss willows; they keep their
Boys on ice in the little streams in the ribbons up in their
Hair:
And my day is long and untrustworthy, but I keep assuring
Myself that it will one day lead to paradise;
And Kelly comes in on Tuesdays and we count dolphins
In the sea, or at least she does with her better eyes,
And isn’t that nice:
I keep wanting to hold her hand- she kissed my neck today.
I drink liquor and I want to die:
The panda bears inside the zoo are very sad-
I just wish they could talk to me like astronauts stranded on
The moon;
And she is in her night garments, and her mailmen are all home
Almost sleeping from their hours spent walking and humming
On her;
And she has a little office in the gloom,
And a beautiful husband waiting at home for her.