Of Evaporated Kindergartens Poem by Robert Rorabeck

The bears who shrugged and turned into men,
Taking their lights from the dimmed cave
And going down town:
They are not hibernating anymore—they've sweated
Off the aurora borealis,
And this is the place where it shows the most:
High cliffs that have no trouble going down—
Where the briars snag—
Where the foxes frown, crowning my father and my
Mother's house—
In this kingdom where they used to live,
Until some ungodly dream smoked them out like
Marmosets,
Like weasels—like ferrets— like some knight a witch
Chased around an ambivalent and
Superfluous tree—
Until they were too tired to continue in these none such
Fairy-tells—
In the iron gardens of Ferris wheels—that lactated gardens
Of evaporated kindergartens.