The Beginning Of Something Really Big Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Alma, I love you- and that is my special torment:
When I say these things, even when I am not your patron:
And my hands shake, and my knuckles pop like drift
Wood in abolishing flames:
And yet you somehow floated all away across to the areas of
This state:
And you want to take your children to Disney World:
And you want to believe in the same god as these patrons do:
That will elevate you as well;
And the storm is building up and curling like barbed wire over the
Forgotten wheel barrows;
And it doesn’t have to be over: I can still kiss your lips,
And drive you around, cursing the young bulls and satellites of the
Other gods that don’t have to move this way:
And I will get to you eventually, and touch your brown thighs like
Calling to a genie: and breath you in like the fine spit of the
Sea:
And metamorphosis if only through the ways that I find you in me
Anyways.