Reminiscing Of The Fanfares Poem by Robert Rorabeck

And it is pleasant- isn’t it- even though not
Sincere-
In another town with the chorus girls dancing
With tattoos of tears on
Their cheeks which just means that they’ve been
In prison
And are now like goldilocks- I.e. a long ways
From home;
But what particular suburbia did goldilocks spring
From, anyways-
And who, exactly, did she have to work for:
While all of the cars pull in- examining the blooms:
They are a long ways from the lakes
Bled off the rivers, but they are right here-
Sunbathing in the exact marmalades of another
Holiday-
As it sounded like a gunshot this afternoon while
I’ve had a hard time holding my breath-
But the egrets stand stock still right over the tiaras
Shimmering in the ankle deep grasses:
And I wonder what it means, exactly, just as you kiss
Another mouth and wake up to go to school
Again, as the lightning blooms again over
Your shoulders- and it doesn’t have to be any theft
That I would ever have to believe in-
But another rainstorm in between the bitter holidays
That forgot to take shelter once again, reminiscing
Of the fanfares of oh so long ago.