Into The Brighter Hemispheres Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I am so drunk and so defeated now,
Alma,
That I am laying on my floor in the darkness:
Reposing underfoot of the verbiage in the landscaping of
My misappropriated zoetrope,
I pine for you- Alma: I tell you I love you all day long,
And it makes you laugh,
The way a butterfly laughs at the passing roar of an airplane:
The way the jubilance of innocent bones laughs in the graveyard;
There are yellow houses here waiting in the verdure
To bare your name: Alma,
And the sun is famished and jealous because you know that
She doesn’t shine as brightly as you
Shine-
Your very name the soul of my being- At last you are the
Personification that metamorphoses into the brighter hemispheres,
Shedding my artwork and suckling your children.