Her Streams So Rich And Brown Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Poisonous beauty affixed to a
Blushing stem:
She barely weighs a hundred pounds
And I happened upon her at
Wal-mart today;
And I promised to by her a bicycle, while
Looking into the
Brown phoenix of the rebirthing laughter
Of her eyes:
But she wouldn’t let me hold her hand,
Because her mother was in the store:
There were so many people there, anyways-
What a fabulous microcosm of this
New jungle,
But we found each other anyways:
And when I got home, I was too tired to ride
My bicycle, but she called me again
And I pleasured myself to the sound of her
Cloy voice
While the tropic storms past like sick gardens
Beneath my feet,
And then I drank more liquor and tried not
To remember the opulent distance of our
Bodies standing side beside:
Her streams so rich and brown, and joyously
Daring me to look away.