The Roads Again Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I sweat at the angles that she can love me in,
Like angels holding out,
Still reading underneath the softening pyramids,
Or the lamplight of dousing lighthouses:
And some young man discovers electricity and
Horses
While the housewives run away across the
Canals- they become the pornography of an
Endangered species-
Strung out and freckled for the wet tongues of
Puppies,
And when the daylight floods the roads again-
At first beautiful, and then harsh-
Why, they are nowhere to be seen.