How To Swim Poem by Robert Rorabeck

When the moon rises above the movie theatre
There will be no more thoughts for
Unicorns, or cherry orchards,
But I will have to get out of my car
And explain a bit,
Or I will have to forget about this
Christmas tree in my foyer—
I will have to carry it outside to the nuisance
Of all of the feral cats—
Or maybe I will have to go back to school until
They discover a new planet with life on it—
But until then, there will be new rum,
And problems with my features—
And ways to get around that are faster than
On foot—
And my wife will sit beside me, and we will
Think up a mythology together that will become our
Domesticity—and the lights will go out in
The cathedrals—as the dragons return on tippy-toes—
And the moon abates for the selkies who
I am afraid never learned how to swim.