The Decision For Us Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Beautiful simpletons using brail until
The circus comes
Counting midnight backwards- and the clouds
Fail to tidy up or foreshadow
The sexy romance
Of airplanes entangled with Titans:
That in their bedroom of worlds above us,
They do so much nonesuch-
And the world comes down around their shoulders:
Cascades of waxy tears
Or salty candles: and we hold hands in the roses
Underneath the overpasses:
And especially on weekends, they come to
Sell things from far and wide around
Us- and we get liver disease from wishing to
Be like too many pilots-
Anxious, with green ax handles, and the girls getting
Out of high school and melting around us:
Developing in the higher basins until they are
Nothing more than something vermilion
In a sky of wounds- in an arcade of
Perfumes and open doorways until they finally make
The decision for us to let us in or to not
Let us in with their eyes.