The Feral Mythology Of An Unfinished Highschool's Dream Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Afternoons of burning up, of sorry reflection in the broken
Promises of penultimate glass,
Or whatever it is I have been up to, trying to summon you
Up from your grotto,
But today you showed me your belly: It birthed Michael,
And it birthed Heidi,
When you were coming to America by bus and I was in the
Dark shadows of Tallahassee finishing my thesis:
I would never have dreamed of you then, but I have nothing else
To dream of now,
But you in my little golden house streaking across the floorboards
Your auburn soul:
Alma, this is what I tell myself in the darkness while my belly
Burns,
And I will have to turn in soon after the glass, and the lights are
Doused,
Turn in and sleep now in a bed that smells of you,
But that will be impossible: I will see you streaming up the bay windows,
A fountain of butterflies,
And anything else beautiful enough for you to turn into:
How many times did I tell you today that I loved you, while I
Took off your clothes and we pantomimed the sea,
And how many times did I question that reality, swearing it was too
Sweet to be anything but the feral mythology of an unfinished
Highschool’s dream.