Ingots Of Dark Gold Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Ingots of dark
Gold are making
Love through my
Eyes,
And people are getting
Ready for
Christmas and
Bedtime.
I feel like I should
Have been playing
Baseball
Forever-
And Erin doesn’t love,
The sky has no holder,
And the amusement rides
Are always traveling around
Like little girls
Just learning their first
Birthday bicycles;
But I keep hearing rumors
From the Pope
Underneath the banyans,
Even underneath the
Alligators too-
It seems impossible
But I am always getting
Distracted by the
Slightest parade of the
Swings,
And beautiful women
Who don’t know my
Name,
Trapped in the
Tide’s coppertone
Beach,
Coming and going back again,
Sighing heavily but not knowing
What else to say,
As if they’ve been making love
And not knowing they are
Missing school.