Brontosaurus With A Blue Hair Lip Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Brontosaurus with a blue hair lip
Trying to kiss the stewardess over the river
That is really a stream:
There, she seems to bend in towards you though
She is truly disgusted by you-
And I wonder what game she is busy at playing-
And the sunlight is the color of
Silver and as busy as bees over the still open
Coffins over the still open graves,
But over their shoulders they are having some kind
Of carnival in the careening valleys of
All of Mexico-
And the skeletons are dancing with the skeletons
Of the horses-
The pinwheels are leaping with the worms and
The lips,
And it is crazy, crazy how I was not invited-
Because surely, if I was, it would have put an end
To all of this.