Oh, Hell Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Now my soul is as wrecked as the face of my body
On the shoals,
And all of the pirated ships of kindergarten are waiting underneath
The caesuras of the blue gilled knolls,
And you don’t know me by now, Alma:
Now I am all f-ed: like the unrequited love of ducks in the
Playgrounds of preschool,
And you have never had to taste the blood off my tongue:
You have never even had to ring me bell:
All you have done is knocked, and I have come, like a ghost
Hooked into the mouth of a bright
But lonely shell:
I have come, and my soul has torn open like the wash basin
In the grotto of a suicidal virgin in the forests of
The seventh layers of hell;
And you blew me out, and you rode out ponies, and you
Defeated our games, and you ate our baloney;
And oh, hell, Alma:
Oh, hell….