Into The Blearing Eyes Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Comely reasons resting here,
And combing comely hair, while the angels intrude
Through the footsteps of busses,
While the rattlesnakes sleep belly-up underneath the rude
Cherubs of holly;
And gold crenulates the earth, as grandmothers surface
In Saint Louis,
Segregated in the firehouses of Bellefontaine, underneath the
Chalkboards amusements and all laid out there all Silkily
Even before I knew anything
About Alma; as she showed up real good today, and it made
Me formed the way sometimes gunpowder can contemplate
In a wound;
But I left the battlefield so that I could get here first thing
To you,
The continents melting like ice-cream, treating themselves
Into the tears of the ocean:
And bicycles, and bicycles who become the reefs and grottos
For otters and alligators,
As Alma’s daughter learns her firsts words, and looks up
Smiling into the blearing eyes of her most overtly Mexican
Of fathers.