Stones Of An Entire Earth Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Butterflies and rainbows of death over
The skulls of Mexico: my god, this is how you sing
To me in your rainbows and fieldtrips of
Death
Stamped in your epitaphs still pretending to be
Beautiful while the sun curses itself—
And your aunts and uncles sell everything of
The venomous snakes that grow head over heal
In your backyard as the volcanos scoff—
And the helicopters give your roofs their own
Shadows where I seldom sleep anymore,
Drunken with my love for your star-crossed lovers:
But now I have a wife, and you are almost gone,
But the sea keeps singing to herself waiting
For her next man to arrive as she carries on in her
Sororities of make-believe mermaids while,
Above, the stewardesses keep on crossing themselves,
Skipping as they do over the wetted stones of
An entire earth.