The Hallways Still Echoijngs Poem by Robert Rorabeck

What are you doing, laughing to the piano
Underneath the forts—while you pretend to be one of
Their princes in the moonlight
Just to impress the mermaid losing her clothing in
The echoes of the constellations,
In the changing rooms of the caesuras or wherever she was:
As the traffics continued throughout the weekends—
As I stared at myself until the sandcastles were consumed
By the proportions of the evenings
And there was nothing left that could be enjoyed
But the dysfunctional classrooms that we all tried to runaway
From—
In those strange grammars that I could never quite get
Ahold of—with the sunlight still falling through the alienations of
The hallways still echoings.