Where Nobody Really Belongs Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Sad that no one is reading the songs or the odes,
Sleeping in abandoned train cars,
Eating their breakfast, kissing horny toads-
And I am no longer in AZ-
I am no longer anywhere, as I’ve been for so long
Dreaming of beautiful jaundiced women, gazes scarred
Like jetting stars,
Sleeping alone; and when I leave my dogs howl,
Even though I am not going anywhere- No matter
Where I leave them, I am always around;
And I want to get drunk,
But I have to look for a job, and smile, and tell
Them all about myself-worth, that even in strange
Cities I can drive cars,
I can get around and lean against the woods and see
The shadows undressing themselves and making love;
All the lost girls banter and tongue;
And I give them a crooked, lazy smile, according to
My face; but I do not tell their secrets,
But if I smoked, I’d light a cigarette and burn a long
Silent cherry,
And appreciate them for having escaped the rat race,
As the traffic perambulates along the driving roads
Where nobody really belongs.