The Roller Rink Shore Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Hoard me to the basement,
My concrete love:
This is where I warm and cuddle with
My mutts,
While the better placed angels are upstairs
Yammering, the birthday cake sl*ts:
And this is why, this is why I have so many
Books- Hide my beautiful features in books,
Talk up a page,
Try to out-mind the yammering,
Birthday cake sl*ts:
This why it is better you don’t know me in
Any degree,
Because my whole soul is churning like the
Pedaled-neck snapping of a butter-cup;
And it is better than I love you from the bottom
Of a dried up inland sea
Where the elk arise fully formed from the
Harrows of dragon fangs,
Where the shadows of pre-ancient sea life
Are still crowding to the wispy shoals;
Because I saw you roller-skating one day down
The halls of high school;
But I really didn’t, I really didn’t see you,
But shut my eyes and made a wish, pouted so
Deeply for you,
A roller-skate dish; but I fear for my soul, vociferous
And afraid that if you came over you’d be just another
Birthday cake maid: One of those sl*ts,
Or one of them wh*res, with yammer and hollerings
Once angels but no more, ovoid and holding
Hands all around the roller rink shore.