Into The Lukewarm Stones Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I tried many nights surviving to the sounds of
Airplanes—
As unbusied bachelors jumped and left the
Earth—
Going on their honeymoons where no one could
Disavow them-
Taking off their shirts to sunlight
And moonlight, but never to the all too
Many Disney Worlds—
As the housewives stood at their thresholds
Counting to themselves and biting
Their lips—
They'd been at the pleasantries of masturbating
While their young boys tried to
Launch model rockets
To soar above the carports to a cream-pie moon—
As across the street, the pornography
Molded with the blue cats—
And the cenotaphs of the conquistadors cried
Themselves into the lukewarm stones.