Planets Of Our Earth Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I am scarred: I eat penny candy, just as I would
Have eaten your c%nt;
My grandmother doesn’t give a lick about me, but she
Gives a lick about her seven runts;
And this isn’t a novel, of course: This isn’t your novel,
Your lucky number, or nimble horse:
This is my new Sabbath on another night of my discombobulated
Intercourse:
This is just how I drown everything I’ve ever had into the
Anonymous canal;
This is just how I get the liquor out and make friends with
Shadows:
Shadows, or cats name Shadow, or Lucifer, or so much worse;
Oh, If I had only been Mark Twain or some other well spoken
Jerk,
I fear you would have given me something more than one French
Kiss:
Something more than this, Kelly, knowing that I have loved you
For as long as fifth grade, and if I had more balls, I’d made out with
You in the shade of a Catholic church,
Or something worse; but you have given me names to remember:
To remember; and you should always remember,
Remember, Kelly, that while we went up to Washington DC together
Like a snowbell in line to be wed, that
I had always loved you then, and I will love you still,
While the nights flicker on and off: until my very soul is the ash
Of a defused light bulb: yes, Kelly: yes- I am no charlatan:
Though recluse, I will love you still, Kelly: even while my
Father’s horses pummel their valley of scuppernongs, Kelly:
O, I will love you until death, Kelly; and O,
Kelly, long afterwards: long after your body cannot figure:
I will love you then, even while the heavens make unto them new
Planets of our earth.