The Heart Poem by Robert Rorabeck

They will make creatures with new playgrounds
Whilst the airplanes still swing and roar into the sky
Until Romero finally returns home from
Visiting his brother in
Jail in Orlandoâ€"that is his Disney world, his
Private playgroundâ€"and he can have all of us as a joke,
As the smoke lingers in the armpits of the titans,
Until we all wake up yawning like foxes for grapes in
Some new fangled movie theatreâ€"
And we will have a hard time expressing our words
Underneath the alabaster doorways,
The armpits of cypress rich with echinopsis and airplanes,
As I wonder, yawning, and drewly-eyedâ€"will
My father ever sell fireworks againâ€"
Will selkies ever runaway to the sea, as the horses carry
Their carts through another picture book that my
Mother never had the heart to read to me.