The Christmases Of Your Innocence's Poem by Robert Rorabeck

You've been dicking around with those horses
Of those daydreams that used to be stars—
And I wish that I felt alright in my amusement park
Of my new wife—
While the waves echo like glasses of drunken
Words underneath the airplanes—
And there isn't anyone else to help you—
But now the mountains look so clean—
They have been speaking forever—waiting for the
Flowers to grow across their bosoms like
Honeymoons in the spring—
The girls that you once knew who used to shoplift,
Who used to strut out on the patio in the middle
Of the day—smiling and gleaming sensuous while
You lit off bottle rockets and learned how to spell—
And the moon spun around and around—
Like a mixing machine,
While the Christmases of your innocence's happened and fell.