Happy Weekend Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Now I’ve said too many things, as pensive as an apiary
Of afflicted numbers,
And now I question the space between our bodies, and how
To rush through that space to find you:
There you are another night as brown as your rabbits in the
Clutches of his abusive arms,
And I don’t want to think of you too long there, or I will walk
To your house again and sleep on your
Roof:
I will pretend that it is another Christmas and slip treats through
The windows of your children,
So that they might love me, even though I know I can never
Take the place of their father:
There are still other ships to sail, and the burning grottos
Lactating on the missing shores;
Maybe you have sisters there who you cannot yet remember,
But let me take you to them,
And then we can all drive to Orlando and spend a happy
Weekend at Disney World.