The Stark And Naked Sea Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Even if the singing mines of a heart don't pan out—
The sun will still paint in the blue prints—
Over this subtropical part of the world: over the bandits
And the man-o-war:
With beautiful women languishing further inland,
Brushing fully naked against the sexualized horns of
Unicorns—
In the tall grasses, with the libidos of jackrabbits—
Like blue gills and foxes jumping up to taste the quicksilver
Of airplanes—
The Ferris wheels spinning around like well-armed gypsies—
And the windmills stealing their lights—
Circulating throughout the valleys that I remember,
Making the soldiers dropp their guns into the rocks and
Pig-nosed snakes—
But down there somewhere as well—like a torn banner
For a defeated belief,
A single angel blown through the currents of the rocks,
Who still remember when it was they lived in
The raiment of the stark and naked sea.