The Kissing Rooms Of The Cars Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I can survive if you can survive- for awhile,
Outside the trout streams of Mexico-
Here are the oily reflections of your mother,
Before she had a gun pressed
To her head-
And had to surrender, as you surrendered:
As I have surrendered for you,
And given off my skin to my classes: and shed
Myself on the stark and barren tree of my
Classroom:
I hang my skin here for witches
And stewardesses, and they come around,
Fingering themselves and blowing kisses- oh,
The beautiful words that they seem to become-
As I remember you in the fruit market,
As I remember making love to you in the afternoons
When there was too much rain to work-
For awhile, for that time, you kissed
Me open mouthed, and when you saw me in the little
House I bought for you, you jumped into my
Lap and we kissed, and we made love,
Even though I was drunk: but eventually, you stopped
Kissing me opened mouthed- I still get drunk
During and after school- and I still like to feel the
Warm recesses that happen upon me inside the daydreams of
The kissing rooms of the cars out in the student
Parking lot- but you no longer know what I mean-
And I no longer care.