Into Their Brotherly World Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Beautiful it is to be another while
Anonymous beside the sea:
Beautiful words happening from the monuments of
My destroyed body:
Roiling up through the pores of a session of long nights
And windmills of tattoos:
Going overboard, and licking their wounds all the way
Down the Grandest canyon of the ants:
Drawing the blood like the sacred swords from them
That my father never drew-
And then standing like the tiniest man inside a forest
That grows up to the heavens,
Where the angels are doing their laundry just like
My mother across the blue sheaths of
Comets and moonlights:
The waves like wild horses collecting their blue ribbons
From their tiniest and most unsurest of bedrooms:
Soon they will be up there to meet her,
But what will they see: and what will they say to her
As they go down together,
Back into their brotherly world, to breakfasts, gossips,
And sleeps.