Or Maybe I Should Not Let You Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I’m doing battle with John Keats:
I’m watching a movie about hi, after I’ve jogged
And punched the hancho of a hurricane in the eye:
And hurricane season is over.
But there are still Christmas tree lights strung over
The fjords;
And Kelly’s toenails haven’t changed colors since
Christmas;
I’ve come for my poetry class, which is a line from
The movie playing in the background,
Which is just how good I do poetry when I’ve
Had enough undulations of poetry:
Kelly, I sit with you on the bench in Riviera Beach on
Tuesdays, in the early afternoon.
I gave you strawberries; and I am very brave, because I sit
With my sad side of my face into your blue German,
Face;
And I want to zigheil junfrau for you; and I certainly will,
While traveling by foot: Kelly, I remember reading with you in
Fifth grade, while your mother was cheating on your father;
And I already know that is what you are
Trying to recreate, while your soul goes leaping so blonde across
The haughty bridge;
It seems to leap so far and spread across every mausoleum in
Every cemetery ever thought of; but tomorrow will be
So rapturous, for I will feed you strawberries again; and we
Will both think about your husband,
As we count the dolphins finally coming up so smartly to
Breathe;
And you will try to kiss me again- and maybe I will let you,
Or maybe I should not let you….