Like Schoolgirls Around The Wishingwells Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Life is a hell of a crippled youth:
Drinking liquor, shooting guns, hitting nothing:
Finding arrowheads,
Kissing his mother, getting lost on the mountain going
Down,
Cursing under the blue entrails evaporated from
The half-blooded Indians
Who now live in trailer-parks cursing their ancestors'
Tombs,
Daydreaming of canals surrounding beautiful suburbias
And amusement rides:
Seeing how they go down like the sun,
To die beneath the rubber chickens, hypnotized
Like school girls around the wishing wells that cannot
Carry a tune.