In The Glances Of Pinwheels Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Boys made of wood showing up in the glances of
Pinwheels
Painted in the sideshows of abandoned parking lots,
Like boudoirs for the shadows of an eclipsed
Moon:
Stand there gawking, drinking sour milk—
Each word stolen from the lips of the substitute
Was the penny candy for our ears—
And her bosoms an arcade
We stuttered coins over like wishing wells for the slender
Amulets of dragonflies and conquistadors:
After housewives vanished with the flood, we took to
The indoors—air-condition and ceiling fan
And popcorn ceilings high above
Rugs as tangles as cotton candy—
Like the memories of kindergarten of a kidnapped boy:
See him waiting in the graveyard of a shell—
Like the sticky sweetness of Eastern
Waiting for the resurrection—
Somewhere abandoned to the baseball diamonds
And watermarked centerfolds of his old neighborhood.