Every Other Holiday Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Every Other Holiday



Scar of sun in the
Sky- spider wound- floating
Like a match stick spume
Burning Christmas trees in
July;
And bicycles run speaking
Over the bridge,
Going to collapse with the
Maidens whose skin is as
White as icecream-
Ferris wheels evaporate
In perfect delusion-
And I think of the
Girl who can only love
Me on
Every other holiday.

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Robert Rorabeck

Robert Rorabeck

Berrien Springs
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