The Pompous Sun Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I want to share my silent
Mirrors with you,
My mute narcissisms,
My tongue less voodoos,
Because I am so tired,
Like a girl spun out of an airplane’s
Womb,
Who hasn’t a bed,
A fairytale without a crèche,
A river without a head
When all the little boys have been
Playing at leaping over the
Fire- All the little jack’s,
The liars:
I’ve been off in the shadows for
Awhile,
With my eyes been eating your
Colors,
Your bangs that swing because you
Are wild,
And I want to be your feral child,
Without religion,
I want to dance my language to you
That I should love you by
Careless circumstance,
Like traffic without direction,
Like tourism without monuments-
I want to crash into the hapless
Romance,
Like waves that slap dying and moaning
Underneath the penumbra that wakes
Up in the morning,
Yawning as it disappearing behind the
Play of the pompous sun.