Never Supposed To Be Poem by Robert Rorabeck

His Lancelot has been naked but courteous
To you,
And very familiar: so many times questing into your
Octopus grottos
As to make them so well tilled as to even bear
Children without any sort of wicked serpent’s
Fangs,
Except for his; and they rose up springy,
And were met by the heavy hand of the gravity of your
Trailer parks and tom cats;
And this is what they said, but oh boy, and baseball:
Witches on red diamonds telling secrets to
Dust devils, or the blue diamonds of pools enriched with
Chlorine,
Your sister’s eyes- and by her I mean anybody’s sister:
I am not speaking directing to anybody, how could I,
Except that I mean that he is your knight,
Proud and religious and adhering to a king;
And you both know so little of the world: you are so young
And eager to be questing;
And when he falls asleep inside of you, when her furls and goes away
Then don’t you close your eyes and realize that it was never
Supposed to be this way at all.