I Also Worship You Poem by Robert Rorabeck

The bus drivers love one another as they deliver
All of the children to their school,
And then they pass away like salmon, like mariposa,
Like birthday cakes in your sweet forests,
Alma:
And I would like to pass away like that too:
After I don’t see you anymore, after your body doesn’t come
Around me anymore,
But goes back to your children and your rabbits;
And I really like it when you let me buy you lunch;
But I know you are trying to keep fit, and speckle against the sun
Like the candles of all of those saints:
Your body is always on the run, washing tables, picking grapes:
And I approached you in your truck today, the favorite color
Of your body,
And ate the sandwich you offered me, and then I went off through
The forest to stransplant plant palm trees:
I got a hundred dollar tip while I was away from you, but
It wasn’t worth it,
To be away for a moment from the orchards of your body,
The sibilance off the gunfights that you breathe:
When everything else isn’t real, you become the arcade:
You become the highlights of all the best girls,
And I worship you when I am next to your body:
Alma, I worship you when you are home again with your husband
And children and rabbits:
Alma, when I am alone I also worship you.