Forget-Me-Nots Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Obeying the fallow months,
They bought the shortest headstone in the catalogue,
And when that was set they took
The blue peacock feathers of the dead flamenco dancer
To the forget-me-not’s dump
Where the very squat and very onyx man
In the yellow construction helmet,
Unaccustomed to such fineries had them placed
At the very top of the hill
In a fluttering row beside the diamond navel
Of the dead belly dancer,
Where their blue faded into brilliant gray in the
Circling shadows of the vultures and gulls,
And until he retired, the very squat and very onyx man
Could look up past the bulldozed hillocks
And see the hem of feathers shiver, the diamond sparkle,
Until his shift was over and he went home to watch
His Puerto Rican wife’s ass as she cooked him dinner.