The Alamo Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I meet the girls,
And then I meet the ladies:
The Alamo is already coming down and
All the men are dead
And drinking rum; the patron is dead-
Someone says he is my father,
But there are no clouds tonight, no way to return into
This:
This girl tonight she wore a two piece bathing suit as
She opened the door;
She seemed to say that everything was going to be
Alright, but I can’t say if she was sure:
She wanted to start off on top of me, but she made
Me so happy,
I pressed her like a buttercup or like a bluebell to
The floor:
As if we were on the high planes again, drifting without
Phonebooths;
And I swore- that only the men in red and white
Lived to tell the tale,
Like her toenails who kept the same names since
Christmas;
She was like a Pegasus or Christian, and it wasn’t my
Place to explain to her
What we were fighting for.