The Lounging Of My Greedy Eyes Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I am building muscle and wasting time,
While the sea has decided to through a bowl of wet
Fruit out her car door: It rains, and there are no customers.
The 150 watt light bulbs glow like blue collar workers
Punching in their time: We have enough that when added
Together and divided they will cost us 8 dollars a month.
My dog is in Arizona, jump-yipping, far away like a fairytale
On the moon: I have used him to pounce up from the
Cracker-jack crevice and kill the hording dragon who
Said my name before he died, and revealed to me the name
Of my sister down in the white cataracts, down in the busy
Tombs, always falling and leaping like a circus without form:
And I loved her in a way I shouldn’t have,
And I delivered Christmas trees to her front door, as books
Wilt and fade over, become damp and mold-ridden; the same
As the names of the women upon them, the bucolic lasses winnow
Wheat from the fields, in that bright sunlight folded up and
Dog-eared in a country far away, covered with my fingerprints
And the lounging of my greedy eyes.