Waiting For My Time To Pass Poem by Robert Rorabeck

The lesbians caress beneath me in a pool;
As If I have summated and am now looking down into
The armpits beneath her bosom while she sleeps
With her fireman or anybody who is cool;
And isn’t this my ship sinking into the breakers of the clouds,
Maybe the lighthouse is still turning, making its loving rounds:
But I need a girl who loves me just as I love her;
But the only person on this earth who ever loved a person as
I loved her was Jesus,
And he loved us all; and we shot him in the back;
And now I am not a college professor, and I fantasize about you;
But you know it doesn’t matter anyway, because it is over
And the plants are loving animals, reciprocating like mother
And father and the world seems to be tied up in coitus;
The planet is a kissing ball, and I wish I knew so many more words
To possess her; I wish I was the college professor out articulating
In her park of dreams that every so many feet has tiny little
Churches just as precious as dolls;
And her floorboards creak even barefoot through the glass,
Because she is always sneaking out to go and find another lover,
And the waves crash like mute lovers,
While this is what I have been doing, biting my lip in perpetual
Agony, and waiting for my time to pass.