Tearless Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Oh what a wound, and now all of this prancing through
The sea:
All of the bright and yellow bits that are soon to dying:
I lived right here,
And all of my life, in the prancing yellows, smiling
Looking too good for my presupposed wife:
While my all of nothing
Reads not a thing- and it all keeps to happening, through the
Brilliant dance of death and all of this rain:
And, yes, it all goes down- down the drain:
All of my spelling wishes, and all of my hapless tears: they bring
Nothing to my wishes: the rocks are barren,
Moonlit swept,
As if answering to the nothing that lives here: the airplanes flying
Ever constantly, carelessly and tearless
While moonlit monsters spin their arms, stationary,
And ever fearless:
And the hapless knights ride out ever jubilant, and tearless,
The moon abiding by them, glowing across the hedgerows
And the vermilion sororities of housewives,
Tearless.