Heavy Pines Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Bruise me again against the starless sky,
So that I might feel asymmetrical couched in the damp pines;
I can see your jocund face in the fusing light of a cigarette-
You friends surround you like a fraternity of hazy secrets
Upon the temple of an unconscious giant out so long
They have decided to build a university down the side of his face
Where the winsome professors stutter like ants over
The weight of all the knowledge they have produced,
Distilled into a little brook of drool that disappears over the rim of
His awesome jaw; Some kind of prism lights your space,
As you get ready to develop into a new creation,
Something with two last names, a bank account, and steady occupation;
I remain where I was, where I am still, and continue as
The town leaves itself for my cousin specters; Listening
To your fond echoes, we wait for the largess to move us;
Until this, we are lost in the woods and the needles die and
Cover your laughter, muffling the colors into sepia, and
Drone out your smell like snow and volcanic ash;
But through the miasma of heavy dreaming, I see you onwards,
A painting in the far distance, just a silhouette now
Only I can remember watching bruised between the heavy pines.