Solicitating Doorways Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Penalized for my scars,
Made to sit out and sweat off my libido
Here on the bleachers,
While the pretty girls get to go and get lectured
By Swedish young teachers: Oh,
But here the ceiling fan
Chops Susie; it is an insularly sort of
Halo for my scarred and bruisey-
What do I get for human interaction today,
But a Chinese takeout menu stuffed in my door-
There are massage parlors around here,
But I wonder what for;
And literary agents; and literary agents?
Young sweet and innocent things waltzing up in
New York,
Dallying in some parks, going down somberly lit;
What will they think of my own take-out
Pamphlets stuffed in their crenellated doors;
Ostentatious unreadable birthday presents;
But then again, what do they have to think of
Anything?
But close their eyes and kiss him,
Forgetting all about the solicitations stuffed in their doors.