What You Have Pretended To Save Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Kiss me on either side of my face,
If you are from Seville
And it is your whim: Play your radio and
Back off,
As old men drive away back through the
Perfidy of their adolescence:
Think of the time you spent mocking me in
High school,
The cumulostratus or whatever you call
The flying holocaust it put me through:
Build up and pull over and make love at the
Anonymous road stop underneath the
Great stone bridges where the Indians died
Or at least gave way,
Because you are the greatly educated:
So proud of yourself and your football teams.
Your bedroom is full of red and blue ribbons,
Either coming or going away,
But it is just a very thin wall, thankless,
Persuaded,
When the wolf comes with cheeks gorgeous enough
For orchards,
Biceps strong enough for batting cages:
Then you will know who I am, like the culprit of
The deceitful fable, I will not be denied;
And your eyes are just wimples in the dark floating not
Even like candles inches apart,
Hoping against the window that I will have the bravado
To take what you have pretended to save.