The Confinements Of Their Social Earth Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Oh, never mind the broken words of
Siamese twins—
I just want to check out the layout of
The sun,
And lie there, as the beach engorges
The world as
You know it will—
As pretty girls are passing by, willing to
To look up at the angels who
Belong on Christmas trees
Now that the summer is almost
Over and the daylight is gone from
The housewife's eyes,
As if the fireworks they had spent too much
Money on had
Fled the confinements of their social Earth.