That Blinding Cathedral Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Baseball is a poem
In the classroom, graffiti on an
Anonymous desk
But a poem
In a world of harsh light the bodies
Filter through like goldfish on
Their last breath
Coming to the cannibalisms of
Robbins and blue gills
Coming to the last supper in the jungle
Showing their teeth for nude
Breasts: and the days
Carried out rising through the highways
That make believe they are
Beautiful, as if jewelry for
Colorado- as if Wolf Creek Pass diademed
Just her throat or just her navel
And the evergreens gossiped in the deep
Deep snows
And she with her traveling family
Worshipped underneath that blinding cathedral