Lunchtime Poem by Robert Rorabeck

All of the glade spoken to of houses:
Expensive, expensive, expensive spouses: all of this space
Of animals sure, so sure that they were marsupials:
And up river, and up stream a river full of a specific dream
Of all those mammals in all of those houses,
Cooing softly into cooling blouses:
I wished, I wished to unlace those houses and see exactly who
These spouses;
And trailer parks and dart boards, and weedy ways to grouses:
I wish is my wish is that I knew who my spouse was:
And under the mountain lays a town where get me up and get me
Down;
And Alice lives without a frown, both a big one and a little one
And another one who took me to prom, and pinned a corsage on
My vest and made me yawn:
And in the earliest early of morning the seven satellites or somewhere
Around them,
And then later in the morning some water fountains where’s I wish
I could drown them:
My lips on her thighs: it’s all I wish, I wish and then I could die
Like a gold fish lying straight out in the open: the open
Underneath the student carports cooling all coolly and waiting to
Open:
Waiting, waiting, waiting for lunchtime.