Treasure Island

Robert Rorabeck

(04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

The Cenotaphed Conquistadors

Adhering now to all of the spaces that fill
Over and under-armed—
Ganged into the highest apoplexies of the
Kissing shoulder to shoulder
With the snow-blinded goddesses—
We seem to make our peace with the lowliest
We seem to be breeding here unrecursive to no one—
We have been skipping school and lighting off
Our strange and exciting kites high amidst
The silkweeds—
Now while my baby is sleeping,
And the purple conundrums disparage to no one
That lives here—ghosts outside of their homes
Filibustering to the absentee housewives
Until I’ve decided that I want to
Disappear into Mexico—
Then the airplanes come, showcasing their half-hazard and
Illustrious fanfares,
And they are turning around and around—
Acrobatics of the insincerities of the half men who
Can only light off a fraction of their fireworks
And other loves come and go
Just like the mermaids who never know if they
Are truly satisfied by kissing the cenotaphed
Conquistadors underneath their age-old Mistletoe.

Submitted: Sunday, July 07, 2013
Edited: Monday, July 08, 2013

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