Curtains Drop Into The Sea Poem by Robert Rorabeck

A wall of curtains drops into the sea;
It is beautiful, like a bride falling from the rocks,
And we drink whiskey as we look at her,
Though we are afraid she will turn and see us
And suddenly become self conscious and less alluring;
Her ankle is the bobber in the foaming lips,
And we stand around her, sway and sing drinking songs,
And her groom is floating on his back as she
Feeds him mouthfuls of cake, his polished shoes
Have come off and sunken in the warm bottoms, and the government
Wants to shut us down, because they cannot understand
What it means to be French with only two hours left to live;
Unlawfully, they are taking down the fabric, pulling
Off her tresses and turning off the lights,
But now she is full of salt, and they are both full
And young and as they kiss, we the audience applaud,
And then shuffle out of the honeymoon; In the humid night we share
A light and satisfied conversation in which
We discuss what we will drink with out dinners,
And the jealous housewife looking away over the parked cars,
Still remembering how beautiful she was extending miles
Across the land says, “She was born Catholic, but
She was not a Catholic when they baptized her that way
Before everyone.”