Treasure Island

Robert Rorabeck

(04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

Make-Believe Women


The make-believe women, bare shouldered
Were shouldering the boats of air
It was very unexpected how they could do
This,
But I couldn’t care—
Women of ether,
Women of air—
All evaporated above the baseball games
But otherwise going nowhere—
Coming up
And falling down
Or falling in love
Without looking around—
Work for the mammals who make love
Above ground—
Night for the soldiers who sleep naked
With their mistresses in beds of
Jasmine just out of town—
When I saw them, I had a wife;
But now I am armless and drunk,
But at least I have a wife—
Child of soldiers,
Children of strife born to the women
Of air,
Coming up and going down
But going nowhere.

Submitted: Friday, July 19, 2013
Edited: Monday, July 22, 2013
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