In The Exibits Of Wingless Animals Poem by Robert Rorabeck

The entire classroom stands up and yawns:
It seems that it is time to go
Even though it is just the beginning of the day—
But shouldn't we go,
Just to be sure—instead of saying The Pledge of
Allegiance to the Flag—
Shouldn't we go out of doors and across the streets—
And even over canals—
To light off illegal fireworks off of neighbors' roofs—
Then sing sea shanties to the first evidences
Of the nuclear moon:
It is what Walt Whitman asked of us—to join his
Song in the brotherhood of the workplace—
To coalesce our senses alongside
Sea horses and weathervanes—to find a truce for
Ourselves outside the voids of sports stadiums,
Ignoring the monuments of our heroes—
To ride bicycles to flea markets on our weekends—
And to glance up at the moon when our bellies
Are full of stolen dinners and stolen rums—
To listen to the nocturnal wonderments of
The absolute heavens perfumed by the nocturnal
Bouquets while the housewives make their
Tamed love in the exhibits of wingless animals indoors.