Treasure Island

Robert Rorabeck

(04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

With The Speed of Light


Baseball games are the openings of the day’s lunch boxes—
Don’t you see how they make pretty news in between the playgrounds
Of the day’s pretty tears:
Well, she was here anyways—reclusive, until she got bored,
Cardboard marionette torn about by the passionate
Happenstance of fireworks—
And the highways proceed swerving around her,
Going all of the way off to Tennessee or some other
Out of the way place, filled with isolated grottos
And mermaids who have become cenotaphs
Until there is no other way to run—
And all of the Goldilocks have been defeated—
Places that leave us in the dust,
As if we’ve been looking back for a million years,
And she has gone forwards with the speed of light.

Submitted: Sunday, July 07, 2013
Edited: Monday, July 08, 2013

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