And Even I Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Even this house doesn’t sadly wonder
Of all the creatures with eyes:
Eyes,
Who are wandering, fixated, opened eyed,
Open lipped,
Drowning or starving by all of the elements:
Fix hooked in their gut or stamen:
And all of this, a hand of nothing:
Girls, girls in cars, and girls in planes,
And girls on merry go rounds:
And all of them looking up into the sky:
Ants and fish, and flying fish:
And wishes on their birthdays that leave to say
Goodbye:
And blue gills in the blue bells who are taking their
Last breathes,
And ants, and blue ants blown from the lips and
Stamens of tulips in games of love into
The canal:
How long do you think it is that they can swim before
They too have to say goodbye:
Just as stewardesses leap through the sky, like Jacks
Off of hot candle wicks, leaping like nursery rimes,
Like busy airplanes of mobiles above the vast infinity
Of newborns:
And cockroaches in forgotten cabinets:
And even you. And even I.