How To Become Men Poem by Robert Rorabeck

There in a tweed outcome- pretending to be a
Friend of hummingbirds along their
Busy highway-
When the airplanes are milking the sky,
Or at least
Leaping for it, their stewardesses teetering
On the precipice of the middle class
Taken off
On bottle rockets: where will they land,
But over the saddles of
Frog princes- so far away, they cannot
Remember their high school classroom
Or what they learned in dazes
Through the courtyard’s sunshine- but it
Doesn’t matter to them:
Soon they will be laughing with new men,
In the back of their minds knowing
That, if they have to,
They can always be returned to the lost and
Founds of their husbands
Who even them weep in the dim crepuscule
Across the work stations of their
Garages- like men who want to become foxes,
Or like foxes who have learned how to become men.