The Silver Waves To A Golden Shore Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Look outside the window- see
A chastity of green elbows, and hear the swinging of
Green airplanes;
A bough of the senses hanging on a wreath of air. Pluck
Nudity from the sky for a moment,
A vineyard of opalescence burbling above a
Wicked spring-

Ants parading atop a planet of metals- distilling the eyes
Of rusting heroes,
Burrowing, regurgitating jewels for a queen embossed with
Insectoid caviar-
Displayed upon her mantle of dirt, a nudity of blindness
And the unclothed mandibles sensing the enclosed air:

A parking lot is in bloom! Lush capitalism embossed in
Third dimensional space- Stewardesses skip across
The used car lots like nursery rhymes,
Like stones turned into wishes:

She walks down the aisle serving refreshments to the
People leaping between buying and selling-
It is their privilege to be upon a vessel in the garden-
Here they are in transit,
The bills are collecting. Outside of their portholes
The last great Titan tries to blow down the flying houses:

He is looking for a wife that thought to fly like Icarus
Upon a minimum wage chariot: the King Kong of
Greek Mythos- once captured,
She will have no choice but to become chaste by his
Imaginations-
A real creature metamorphosed above the tourists'
Migrations,
Whose shared mythos draws them back and forth
To Disney World
As the moon draws the silver waves to a golden shore.