Charlatans Of Playboys Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Never figuring how it started out—all of this union,
Contraptions in an animatronic
Time—my wife humming while she is washing her
Face: I never imagined she would be the
Girl whom I loved,
But she is the only one here after all of the conclusions
To the baseball games which happened out of
Time—and the words which my fingers palaver
Like water spiders skirting on a dime—
And the rainbow being somewhat akin to the midnight’s
Apertures—
When the best boy finally strikes out—
And home runs are given to the unoccupied bedrooms
Of nuns and the charlatans of playboys—
And only this weather permits—
Filigrees of plums,
Silhouettes for the last time out of doors—
And then long truck rides into darkness—
Into the places where the cities can never survive.