Like Beautiful Siamese Twins Poem by Robert Rorabeck

The children who didn’t live for real
Are hidden in September,
Or in the graveyards with all of the defeated generals,
Or with unicorns too- I know:
The housewives who don’t bat an eyelash but who take
Their sexy stance out from my toy chest,
Swinging their hips beside the diamond pools
And beneath the gaunt and sexy cenotaphs of airplanes:
And I have had dreams in which I was beautiful,
And in which I was with Alma too:
That I was Alma’s only boy, and only ride:
And we laughed long and naked along the lonely country
Side,
And we both had the guts to summit and see the righteous uprising
Of god’s glorious epiphany
That shot like an arrow on fire over the enemy’s wall,
And tore down the steeples
And felt all of her flesh: she who could not be avoided:
She who was all that we were fighting for:
It was our manifest destiny,
And we were selling fireworks while our hearts still beat,
And the sea drooled on each side of us
Like beautiful Siamese twins who had no one to answer to.