So Many More Of Your Avenues Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Alma, you didn’t believe me when I told you that
I really had a book,
But I am so glad that you came over to visit me, and that the
Rest of your family cannot read English,
Because I dashed right away to the garage where I had a copy of
My book and I brought it back in to impress you;
And you kept on telling me not to touch you, but I touched you and
You didn’t leave:
I thought you would leave right away, but you didn’t leave;
And I smelled you and I kissed you, and asked you if your husband knew
How to treat you:
Alma, I see you out there in so many waves: I think about you constantly,
The figures your body makes like cars roller-skating in my head,
So I don’t even have to think of mountains anymore:
I can just stay right here and think of nothing more than you:
How I walked across West Palm Beach and slept near your house last night:
That is why you came to visit me, so that I shouldn’t be doing that anymore;
But, Alma, I have only so many words in my vocabulary,
And yet so many more of your avenues to explore.