The Illusions Of Our Tomorrows Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I want to cry into your pussy—
I want the sun to set—
I want the day to end
Tomorrow—I want to
Be the conclusion
To you last bet—I don't want to
Wake up to this every again,
I want tomorrow to
Disappear—
I want to f-ck you in
France,
I want us to have our own cheering
Section on our airplane
As we get there,
And the seats get wet—
And the hemispheres of wherever we
Were to disappear—
And this is my last laugh to nowhere—
Even if the rainbow doesn't pretend—
I am not interested in god's promises—
I only hope that the illusions of our
Tomorrows never have to end.