Greece Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Easy days of kindergarten are gone:
And who is left who reads my garden?
It is better that pretty girls
Surf, so young and so long- their bellies wash boarded
Their pubis thonged:
And I will get out of their way like this,
Remembering jealous girlfriends
Because the anonymous flirt showered naked next to me,
And the tortoises panted hidden in the brush
Except for their star-flint eyes;
And my starfish has cracked for another man,
And she watches soap-operas all afternoon,
And gives her kittens plastic violins to play with-
She looks so good when she always takes the bus,
And she knows how to enjoy the exhumed
Smells when one of her two dogs fart;
And she is getting so good as to distinguish:
And tuna-fish,
And I want to rob graves with her; and I want to go on honey
Moons with her to places we last talked about on the
Phone when she asked me if I liked to travel
And then hung up,
And made me think I was a ghost full of conjunctures,
Filled with the sad absence of her time
Which would ripple outwards in an endless lake,
In the weathers of her somber absence,
Lost in a nature preserve, starving on knuckles of white
Ham,
In a beautiful atmosphere of nightmares that would never
End.