This Americaland Poem by Robert Rorabeck

One thing bought the bottle,

One thing bought the scar,

One thing bought the other thing
While driving around in a car-

The sun is setting quickly,
The teachers are going home,
Her hand is resting like an opal trough
Deep in the rose bushes
So far into the musky gloom,

Her brother said he loved her,
As he tipped his hat and set out to sea,
While the euphoria set out to sting her,
Deep in the mouth,
The spume of bumble bees....

Her eyes crossed over and hid in
The fortunes of his cupping hand,
And when they have been long since married,
And bedded like treacle contemplations,
They sang of their immortality in Americaland.