Trying To Collect His Name Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Exactly like her resemblance crossing
After coyote into Mexico-
There she is, a mirage at the airplanes’ feet:
She will remain here
As the billboards fade, as the echinopsis of the cacti
Blush- that the careful lips pluck
Beneath the cliff dwellers and the stewardesses who
Rely so much upon which way the wind blows-
The philosophers and
Archaeologists beneath them- their civilizations
The metamorphosis of slender crops beside
The articulate river-
Going so far from tourists as to be hidden from
The show-
Their families blooming and running down hill
Into the deltas of casinos
And the statues of giant blue horses like lightning gods
Quailing to the heavens,
As it rains down from her window the silent
Thoughts of her high school- really, make-believe
Tears now that she doesn’t believe in water:
But runs down hill, anyway, trying to collect his name.