The Both Of Us, And All Of Us The Same Poem by Robert Rorabeck

The Both Of Us, And All Of Us The Same



In the rude daylight of my soul,
I am finally here, while my dogs are panting
And the centerfolds are pinned up on the walk
Like cave drawings
From last years Christmas; and maybe it has to be
Just you to remember who I was,
But the grass is always mowed;
And there always is somebody’s light on in suburbia,
Just as the lion’s mouth is always yawning in the estuaries
Of its favorite tourisms;
And now it doesn’t even have to be the denouement
Of a week: I can still smell my high school and the bosoms
And armpits of its lockers,
And gym rooms, the rubied culprits of its bullies,
The savage promises of its culprits and alligators long before
They become the mascots of a maturing and over ripening
Song;
While the mice flaunted and sun bathed in little cartooned
Voices and genuflections
Until it was finally time for the eulogies and then the grave,
Even while we cut the cake for the birthdays of
Our love, our Almas,
While the winds blew and the lions, trying to remember all of their
Times, and when they ran four legged through the grass;
And if there really was ever a time that there was enough wishes
For the both of us, and all of us the same.

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Robert Rorabeck

Robert Rorabeck

Berrien Springs
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