The Jealous Sun Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Lashed upon the teeter-totters of some milkweed
Park
The butterflies have spent across like burning paper
Bleeding and now across whose shoulder blades
The bright red and yellow helicopters
Are receding
And the cars are parked next to the dunes across from
Which the ocean waves are sucreasing
Like sisters in a ballroom of mirrors the criminal
Moon is cajoling, stealing kisses that the light house
Is calling
And night in its jasmine zoetropes is falling into
A bed of senseless kisses until the jealous sun starts crowing.