Waiting for a Rocket
The smell of coffee, the smell of pea soup,
The flicker of the kitchen glow.
Bent in the doorway, the boom is coming:
I pray for whom I do not know.
Love: You, Thou. Dearest, Darling,
Ah, what love I would bestow.
Where, wherever, wheresoever did you go?
The boom is coming now; our doom is looming now
And I haven’t found her yet.
“God, don’t you know?”
The boom is coming now and we never even met.
We never even met.