Up To The Enviously Starless Day Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Everything is EE Cummings in double-
Soft yard lights:
Bric-a-brac of dragon spine,
The esotericism of delightful aphrodisiacs
And I can feel myself becoming
Aroused,
Sweating purple drooling like homeopathic
Walruses, and I want to go
Home- but no one is home underneath that
School bus or mountain where you live,
And it used to be said there are prettier girls
Living in the sea,
But they all got new allocations with fireman;
And they weren’t pretty enough to survive
The tenements emollition
And the sweaty fraternities play the stolen guitars
All night,
When it was supposed to be lost in Spain nigh over
Two decades ago- In Salvador Dali, in Port Bou-
And the tree is as crooked as your spine;
And you make your money outside of blood banks
Just by smiling,
And the sun in all its wishy-washy esplanade has no
Right to you,
And you make your money buy selling its light back
Up to the enviously starless day.