Where You Are Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Where you are
The space between me and you
The platterless green table
Devoid of edges and silver wear
The dead vermillion sea our eyes
Look across but never meet—
Upon the void of casual living,
You lay yourself down for a man
With casual hands, who keeps you
Timed with a stopwatch
On a tiny plot of sodden land;

Your house is on the corner
By which other cars divide
Into tiny white tombstone
Homes like yours,
With one cypress tree in the front yard,
Lonely and confused,
You walk your toy dog back and forth—
Never thinking of staring
For the length of a TV show
At the corrugated pink underbelly
Of the clouds wrangled in off
The invisible sea,
Or to walk down the green embankment
To stare at the sopophoric alligator
Who, if you feed it your hand,
Will tell you my name.