The Most Expensive Of State Universities Poem by Robert Rorabeck

All day long through the open mouth of
Song,
Patrons and their lovers
Like uncountable ants underneath the repetitious
Sky,
The little bowl crafted by Sharon’s palms might
As well be this world:
Symbolic like the mythology of Plato’s wisdom
Teeth,
She has made everything that is meaningful
In this last trifecta of decades,
And I would do no harm if I was only allowed
One square foot of her shade to place my head
In,
The penumbra of a sommelier: I wouldn’t
Even have to hold hands with her.
She could turn away while nursing her daughter,
And greeting patrons into her store,
While I would let on to unawares-
The day would be so beautiful, like a shade tree
In Africa I can only imagine.
I wouldn’t even have to touch my lovers flesh.
If she would sell her shade to me by the hour,
I would work good and long through all the careworn
Holidays,
And I though I would be as meaningless to her
As ruined clay bound again to the confirmation of
Her kilns,
Every day underneath her insouciant reservoirs
Would be as insatiable as the most expensive of
State universities.