The Perfumes Of Her Insociant Victory Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Nomenclature of my lips and
Senses dressing the habitat of my despair-
The failure of such pretty atmospheres
To linger,
As the cars drive away- the housewives collapsing
Like dry wood and pantyhose
Where the weeds are tangled,
Where the latchkeys play cards and where the
Thorny citrus hangs so low as to be kissed at
By rattlesnakes: this is her valentines,
Corrupted by truancy and jealous smoke
Signals- this is another one of those impotent
Flairs remembering my childhood
Spent in the pornographies of the damp woods
Across the seashells in the skin of the little road;
And this is how I linger for her, felt up
Like wet kisses on bloodstained paper,
As she inches nearer another highway of massacre:
There she goes lightened upon by the perfumes
Of her insouciant victory- the fairies make
Pavilions out of her shoulders,
And they gossip to her greedily, even as she
Carries away.