Fit for me a space to enjoy,
To make love with reckless sleuths, girls I could
Never pretend to unknow,
Keeping their hair clean in dirty trailer parks:
To snap my fingers and awaken the muse from
Another man’s hypnosis,
To make love with her as I so choose,
To drive with her through the licks of amusement parks.
To see the sweet animals there, every one with their
Hungry eyes pointed forwards,
Not even self-conscious, but still hungry for the things
I am hungry for,
That I see hanging on her every day, though I haven’t
Beheld her for so much more than a decade:
These things that the city couldn’t even think of picking to
Sell,
When those angels are already glutting her streets:
And I have loved her, watching her grow old even while
The carnies are taking down the fair-
She seems almost unreal, her eyes as indescribable as the
Uncertainties of an eerie weather forecast,
Coming over the old high school and Spain alike;
And now my liver must be the size of a football
While my muse walks her streets that are just as wet as
Her turgid hair,
Just as sweet as her child that will for so many months
Defeat the eccentricities of all of this nostalgic romancing.
Robert Rorabeck
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-eccentricities-of-this-nostalgic-romancing/
