Under The Sprinklers And In The Rains Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I don’t want to use you up, because this is not
Your grotto and my mother only has one flashlight,
But still very soon I will be touching myself
And then I will be traveling long footed across
The baseball diamond just to see the girls
In the fibrillose tents underneath the airplane’s
Garden:
They do good work and they are always from Spain
But they are very expensive, which I never fail to mention:
And they are always pseudonyms for the real things:
Housewives and cousins walking back to back
Under the sprinklers and in the rains.