This Fine And So Futile Reason Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Gilling together- bodies in gasoline and armpits:
When we get real smart, our houses start to grow like germs in the
Full blow of a runaway Michigan winter:
And I really wanted to say the you would know me by now,
But all you like about boys is in their better built bodies:
Well, you can go up and up and sing you songs through your mouth and
Nostrils,
But it will always still be the desert of a waiting room in a doctor’s office;
And now I am fully grown, so I can stand up in my high heels and
Feed the cheetah, while the jungle speaks for itself,
And if I wasn’t here why then you would know where I was, for I
Was almost near the zoo; and if I wasn’t there why the you wouldn’t have
Much else to do;
The bodies speak to themselves, and then why they dictate to the fuzz,
While I am lip sinking on some other grandmother’s bed,
Just wondering who I was, while the ocean flips over and plays dead,
Just because it knows that is always was the reason for this fine and
So futile reason for because.