Just Two Ingénues Poem by Robert Rorabeck

In your great urban heart there are so many boys,
More than are in Peter Pan’s;
And you let them fly around your mouth before you
Wake up,
And they land there and then give a soliloquy,
Don’t they; and you pretend to be asleep,
And even when you’re up and eating breakfast with
Your sister, just two ingénues,
You let in enough light for them to see you in
Your lingerie;
And you’ve just bought new tires for your car outside,
Which make you want to stay inside;
You don’t want to have to leave for anywhere,
And ruin their perfect tread-
They yet smell like where you bought them,
And the perfect man, tattooed and smudged;
And you’ve cut your hair down at the barbers the
Same place the politicians do it,
Down by where the mermaids work in the lake,
And the officers keep them there sequestered, trying to
Put them bodily into jars: That’s where I’ve brought my
Lunch so many times, trying to fill myself near where I’ve
Remembered you,
Wanting to read to you out in those public gardens,
So you might be amused and bare a breast,
But its been so long since I’ve painted a picture;
Though I still write, and go by your yard several times a day:
I see flashes of you like consecutive pictures moving around
In a zoetrope: You are smiling, and you are smiling and
Showing tongue, and holding hands with your sister,
And didn’t I say I only know so many words,
And very soon I should be leaving- I am going to get lost
From you,
Even though you couldn’t say who I am,
Because its so long since we’ve been to school,
Though in your playgrounds I can still hear the boys laughing.