Like A Liar From Kindergarten Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Christmas trees, Christmas trees abounding in the
Lurching woods, talking of the pinpricks of light
To the reintroduced wolves:
Talking of Satan to my dogs, while all of the day snows,
And the town grows rich with iron pyrite and make believe
Vampires;
And the busty sorority of milkmaids all lactating their
Virgin Springs:
Why, any one of them could be the mother of our lord,
And cast into high towers while I pine for them:
They get nosebleeds with the ethereal flowers,
While the airplanes send smoking séances for them; and then
I really do believe that I want to picture them down in the
Carports of the grottos of my mother next to the washing
Machine and the high voltage electricity:
I want to picture them like this while the ditches bleed over
With the lactates of creamy frogs and mash potatoes;
As just across the way, hunchbacked on the cenotaphs of
Conquistadors, reading the junkyard of the cars’ pornography,
Some kidnapper awaits toothily for me:
Grandiose and verbatim, his strides like plates of mica through
The grass: I have the feeling he wants to take me to a flea market underneath
The leaping overpass; and I wonder like a thief, like a liar from
Kindergarten: should I let him: should I let him….