Your Delivering Mind Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I’ve seen you baring breasts in the east,
Walking on waves that are lavishly caressing your
Calves
While I drowned underneath you, as I drowned underneath
That bus:
And I’ve always thought of you though even now I
Am not young
And no longer know that ladder up to your grapes
The sly fox has in his lips anyway, the man that has
Your name,
So like everything that is clever with anything you
Are driving forever away through the storm,
Your headlights looking at new animals,
So all I can see is you leaving, like all the planets that should
Have existed like tiny orbs for my lips and phallus to
First suckle and then to prick,
So that all I have are these feeble words, these younger
Man’s toys, who feed their sorrows to the fish,
And then go on wishing their
Sophomoric pines, while you have turned into an
Incredible Indian with a beautifully alien world shooting
Up red tongued through the sweet armpits of
Your delivering mind.