Her Sculptures Of The Shore Poem by Robert Rorabeck

With the sun drifting towards my sisters
And the cars parking,
The heads of mammals laying down—
Even the truck stops sleeping,
I search through the echinopsis for
The bedrooms of a feral muse—
I raise my phallus like a bottle rocket—
I am skipping school at midnight—
The shadows peel from the playground
Underneath whatever moon it is
Like cheerleaders leaping besides the bleachers—
Soon they will know what it is to make
Love forever,
The same way that the ocean knows her sculptures
Of the shore.