In The Mysterious School Yard Of Your Fatalistic Glades Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Days will glow hard and yellow because they
Will have their bouquet of rich sun,
And I wonder what dinner goes best with autumn-
Oh, how the elk leap and run,
Follow Satan’s thankgivings through the accords of
Pine,
Along their trails to hidden springs, such esoteric
Rum;
And I would like to take you here on your nocturnal
Birthday, to watch you bare your shoulders
To the glade- such opal reveille: You don’t know
How much I am scarred for you,
How much I might earn for you by the barrel of
My cap gun,
And I used to time travel and jog all neighborhoods
For you,
And because of you my dogs are never sad,
And my lips are never thirsty; and even God doesn’t
Give a d&mn if we break our social impositions,
Because concerning you he’s always glad,

And so we end out across the signifying canal, while
They are laying on in school, we swing in the amber glass of setting sun:
We have our weddings and funerals alone with secret spit and
Cheap rum; and our own burned out and ochre divinity,
He also would sell anything for you,
For he has been forever celibate out on the reservations of
The everglades,
Like a reticulated serpent as thin as a bridegroom’s ribbon,
Waiting to swallow you entirely
Once the crepuscule caps the sugarcane’s candle
Deep, deep in the mysterious school yard of your fatalistic glades.