Before Going Back To Sleep Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Killing myself like the overindulgence of flowers eventually
Does to bees,
Drinking Guatemalan rum while the other and all too rich families
Go down to sleep in their downy wells,
I glance out of the windows of my mausoleum’s shell,
And wonder what Alma believes as she dreams in her bright
Man’s arms,
And her children, and her missing rabbits: She is all the proof in the
World,
As the cars drive in the pinpricks of the rain,
As the children rush over to the flipping sides of the carnival:
But today I drew her a line in the dirt that she would not cross:
She is going to save herself instead of knowing a better and more
Lonely joy,
And the world slithers away across the imaginations of the desert,
And the genies wake up without any wishes,
And pet the fabulous though make believe horses in Ocala three
Times before going back to sleep.