Treasure Island

Robert Rorabeck

(04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

A Thought In Their Bones


Pains in an organ, open to the trees,
Exposed to the sun:
Cadavers of little boys bathing in the shadows
Of school buses:
Words resurrected off their mollusks tongues,
While all the pretty girls like blue jays
Ate their lunches of
Nectars and other boys,
And then went straight out into the sheer field,
Like kites stuck to the sweet whispers of what they
Could find there:
The ants marched underneath them, their little ant
Hearts beating like drums- the suns stroking them
Like cats:
They marched on the straight edge, the alligators
Watching them without a thought in their bones.

Submitted: Tuesday, March 15, 2011

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