Leaping Through Rings Of Fire Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I feel as if the temples lead to nowhere,
Even if the despondent kings are looking up those
Stone tits over the hills and estuaries of another bloodthirsty
Forest,
And I have cut my toes bloody across all of the cleft palates of
The rusting though once over eager cars,
Now all up on cinder blocks and cypress knees,
Being smelled upon by the blooming armpits
Of air plants,
While their pornographies steep and mold and never find away
To dissolve themselves,
And down into the headgear of thoroughly evaporated conquistadors,
Quilled by the extinct Indians that their luckier cousins
Did in:
And there in the long stretch of sand dunes where the Australian
Pines go lilting like uneasy strangers,
The exegesis of sand lions finally finds them out, and they
Clean their homes quite exaggerated,
But without the need for housewives or the tamed urges
For to go leaping through rings of fire.