Like A Thrown Away Honeymoon Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Now this feels right:
That the bulleys and dragons are sleeping:
And the princesses too,
In the negligees of their mutual incests and desires:
Their bodies at play just as migratory as a state fair,
But now it comes down to the period of
Rest
And then there will be feasting, and gift giving,
And more battles:
Maybe Alma will make love to her old man again
Like a going away present, a ship of love bound for insurmountable
Hurricanes,
While the sweet penumbras of her favorite colors of orchards
Come over us,
And I can pull my rabbit out of its hat, like a birthday present
Of a metamorphosis,
And she can just kiss me in the first and the second darkness,
While all of the heroes, famishing, put down their swords
And stop make inopportune love to their forgetful sisters
Who always afterwards have to cast themselves
Like a thrown away honeymoon topsy-turvy down the maudlin
Falls of their aborted bliss.