Surely If They Are Real Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Gods pledge their songs to girls,
And I want my liver damage to pass beneath the
Tunnels
And the wind tunnels or Christmas, but all of this
Isn’t even real.
Alma:
That I have said I loved you, and I felt myself working beside
You all day,
And then I spun up all of these words for which there
Is no counter,
And now I am forever starving even though I have
So much meat:
And the letters come like the plagiarisms of classrooms
In the immense sunlight:
And I washed up after I made love to her, Alma:
I hope you might forgive me:
Maybe she will become my room mate, or maybe I will
Starve with your name on my lips.
The last vestige of anything that believed or lived
Longer than Disney World,
And now this: and now this- the airplanes touching down
And grazing,
And all of my secret thoughts happening down upon the
Low Lancelot grottos that aren’t even real,
But have some time for teaching to themselves, while
Heidi suckles, or feels the need to repeat the savage and
Indian things unto which I am sure that you aren’t
Even sure if they are real.