Kirikou And The Sorceress Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Another orphaned day in whirlings
Around the sun:
The sad day of lashes, and her eyes
In distant faints,
Before the motes of slothful angels,
The curling fire’s comatose tongues,
Epochs of sad daughters swimming
In numberless seas:
The haze of burning empires
Mingles with her cigarette:
The real world beckons impatiently,
Smashing the car’s horn,
Wanting to get dinner over with,
So it can get paid
And then laid in the sticky and
Dangerous sap of hemlocks- She is with
Him, though she cannot get at
The deadly thorn in the small of her back,
Giving her all those incredible powers:
If I could get it out,
If I could dig it out with my teeth
And lay her down beneath the laureli,
She would stop becoming my sorceress,
And I could proclaim in my full body,
The wish to marry her,
And to reclaim the forgotten village
From her sick fetishes:
If she would look my way,
Like a beacon carving a lucid mote across the sea.