The Deepest And Most Far Fetched Poem by Robert Rorabeck

The nights burn the passerby’s of jasmine
And the defunct knights touch themselves and ejaculate:
And I am not even the postman: I can still feel my toes
As I fail to enunciate:
And I have never been so fanciful as to believe in Atlantic,
And so far alone at night I touch myself,
While I still believe in each unhindered wave of the fairytale sea,
But all of the rest of it sleeps by its side as
The dogs wail,
While the mountains crumble,
And while my unutterable fairytales slip like fateful bottles
Into the most impenetrable of the deepest and most far fetched
F$cking seas.