To Save Me Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Thank god I live in a trailer park underneath
The sun where all of the lamplight has
Been burning,
And you’ve been counting your numbers
Outside of the orchards where
Your old lover makes love:
As the waves whisper to the forts,
And it all becomes contrived-
When all of life fails anyway- and culture fails,
And art,
And all of its homonyms- then you don’t
Have to speculate anyways,
Because all of the gold is gone, and all of
The summits have crumbled-
And the fruits have dried at her sleeping lips:
And she isn’t even in love-
She has made a flea market out of her heart,
And it is only the hearts of her rabbits that continue
Beating- and it feels strange to still be here,
But we are here- underneath the overpass with
The homeless men- and I wish there was someone
Here to save me or, at least, to buy a dollar from me,
Anyways.