Mentionless Sea Poem by Robert Rorabeck

The deer make their own paths up their nipples—
And the elk over her spine,
Down her back nuzzling airplanes high above the pasture
Where my father has ploughed a racing track—
Here—angels mate with unicorns,
Casting their spore over the mentionless sea,
Where arrowheads lay across the beds of entire nations of
Hibernating tribes who once made sun dials and worshipped
Things to the rattlesnakes that spoke to them:
Until there was the spokes of bicycles coming in some Siamese
Wonder down the road—heading to the cerulean lights of
Some baptizing church—pedaled by road scholars
And envied by hobos:
Scorpions living here and getting rides upon the backs of
Green foxes—
If there ever was an octopus or a giant squid, the truth of
It lies in other estuaries so far away that they still believe
In things like swordfish and mermaids.