The Soft Blue Footpaths Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Through these warm collusions I devise the memories
Of the lonely romances where I once was a truancy,
Saddled up to highest cul-de-sacs in the patriotic
Foothills that coiled like serpents in love;
And I pit my cheek in class, and never said a word, while
Her body seemed to me for the sleek tourisms of water
Parks,
Her lips a fountain for the promises of doves; and I took
Care of myself in the green shadows of my own bedroom,
Or I didn’t talk to anyone, but I played with fireworks,
And became a conquistador long after my parents had gone
To bed,
And I had eaten their fried chicken; and all of the monsters
Were in the shadows and the wind,
And the nocturnal bromeliads were out and showing their
Tongues and cleavage for the ceaseless kidnappers,
Or to any of their sorts:
And I got on the long boat with all of my dreams and made
It all the way to California, spindling through the soft blue
Footpaths of what no one else would have believed.