Their Scents Of Unrequited Reason Poem by Robert Rorabeck

The rivers are pretty here, and the drunkards:
The lesbians like coy tortoises in their chlorinated pool,
Get entirely naked
While the freshmen never slumber, and this is where
I once lived,
But now to be bedecked by you, and to really cream,
To really get out and outline the nubile savages in my outlawed
Dream:
And that this is real, and able to be hiked too:
That I have kissed those lips, and plucked from you, Alma,
Everything that in this mortal hemisphere is able to
Be salvaged from the fabulously living,
And that you have thus so become my ultimate muse:
Both making my drafts more cuneiform and lovingly less inviting:
And I drink from the bottle of the stars,
And ride on the ill-equipped equipage of wild horses,
Drawing insignificant blood
As I try to outline in such an inopportune stride everything it is
That I can possibly sell like bohemian presents
Caring their scents of unrequited reason about you.