Underneath The Hot And Florid Sun Poem by Robert Rorabeck

In another house where housewives love,
Where no one could possibly ever read-
Down on the easement with my dogs, like a short
Mowed prairie for tamed fairy-tales-
I take another glass and that is all- That is my
Poisonous heaven- and I can never be what is not
Allowed. How they have betrayed me, finely suited,
Already seated at their dinner table in their
Gated community- I sleep in a crypt underneath my
Parents, above their heads- I have on old tattoo from
Spain; I can never be buried where they are buried.
They will sleep together forever- I have scars against
My navel- Pick me, and discard me, leave me on
The hooks or retail. Emolliate me on stage-
Make the girls who never loved me, who never read my
Stuff have one creamy orgasm- scatter my ashes over
McDonalds- Go out and rent a movie, park in between
Her legs, the barking penumbras where I used to lunch:
Never read this column which has forever been here for
You, a single lonely basilisk out of place but erect
In the otherwise retention of used cars- Like her eyes,
With many flecks all of one color, I can stand up many
Trees for you: look at my scars, I will deliver,
But will you choose ever a one: She lives in her gated community,
Insouciant, predictable in the petting zoo underneath the hot
And florid sun.