So That The New Gods Would Come Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Liquor runs these plebian amplitudes:
These trucks bugle going into a pass of snow:
Fireworks mouth off for only
A second and then are silenced and the crowd is wanting more:
They are a good gage for life;
And the world is so cold, and it feel so good:
Just like it must have felt for William Shakespeare, that redneck:
And I imagine going into this one gorge so full of
My load,
A breath in me like a pinwheel, knowing that it led to your castle,
Even though I knew that your castle was already a home for
Your husband and all of those dragons,
And that I was not beautiful as a single one of them:
I had my sling and my whisky, and I expected so little from you:
Just a drink of your eyes, and to give you flowers,
And to sell all the precious minerals from the bed of my truck
So that you could build constellations and mobiles
So that new gods would come
And you would become rich; and so I would live forever.