My Other Sad Psalm Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I’ve been waiting for the soar throats of song birds to
End,
For the bath to fill, and for you to get naked;
I have been waiting for myself to grow beautiful and big
Muscled along the oracular streets of Saint Augustine;
And I am learning Karate and watching my aunt cut up like
Star fish into so many sisters:
I have been defending myself and supposing up children
So they too can spend most of their times in their
Graveyards,
Never forgiving all of the hallucinations which have left them:
The cars and blimps and Eskimos:
I am trying to perfect my weaponry to pierce your breast
To bring you wounded home to me,
To suckle and warm like a coral snake upon my chest:
All of these bitter words like orphaned children waiting for a
Home,
Only because her womb was already wrecked and the night was too
Cold to cut paper snowflakes to put on another act
To perform my other sad psalm.