Whomever It Seems That You Love Poem by Robert Rorabeck

As it happens I am getting up higher and higher,
Laughing at the filaments of banshees: I don’t even pretend to
Write to Erin,
Anymore; and I gain more weight: I can do ten pushups in the
Fruiteria all at once,
Which was nothing I could even pretend to do in high school
When I didn’t even know, Alma:
My muse who is probably even now sleeping opened lipped
And drooling against the deep brownest shoulder blades of
Her illegal husband;
And I have never been to Mexico, but I have been in her:
I have kissed her damp butterfly the way a mother cat cleans
Her young,
Instinctually and forever, while the nocturnes howl over the open
Throats of drive in movies,
While young lovers kiss like vampires all night long,
And until the awful truths of manana’s morning happens, it seems
Like forever:
And that is when the grass seems to be filled with so many tears,
And you can drive to the quietest corners and kiss for a very long
Time whomever it seems that you love.