To Pleasure Her Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I traffic in star-crossed lovers:
I cut them up and snort them and then look up
And try to match the stare of other
Planets,
Who go about according to the motions of the
Very same sea that we have right here
In our backyards,
The sea of trailer parks comes to me,
Effortless, where truants are smoking green stuff
Underneath the recesses of her viaduct,
Never accounting for their songs,
And the bicycles lay in sleeping harems,
Stolen and made to run into her
Dresses which mote and dudgeon their bells,
And make their tassels somnambulate;
It makes them as lazy as liquor,
Like starfish who never crawl- and she never loved
Me,
But only moaned when I pulled the plug;
And when I walked away, she moaned again and finally
Did come,
For another boy who I thought I was, the perfect shadow
I left behind to pleasure her.