As Far As Moving Pictures Go Poem by Robert Rorabeck

There you are underneath that grave in the
Middle of the shadows where I saw you undressed
And every dog sweated
And the heavens unclothes and the great men
Shed their tears like fireworks,
And the lizards panted and the cicadas took off
Their skins,
And it all became some kind of busied metamorphosis-
As if it was all a plan for September,
And the canoes of lovers passed the sunken fields
And saw so many pretty sights that even I didn’t see
As far as moving pictures go
But it lasted for a little while, but after that I do not know.