Lines For Little Boy's Games Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Pen some lines for little boy’s games,
Or grow a beard and sleep in the back seats of
Passing cars,
Scribbling love notes on the floorboards, cheeks
The briar scratches of barbs and burs;
And the world turns again, because it has nothing
Else to do,
Young mothers exercising in the park now say
How do you do,
While the alligators burp and fart,
The horses in the race track of flatulent emperors.
Curious air-planes go to bed in the dirt,
And the swings swing their easy chains-
Everything is beautiful if it arcs, the nest of her
Back and calves, the little nooks of science,
The blue and red shifts, the kisses she serves to the
Black and blue pugilists;
I can turn on the light before I go out to sleep under
The yard, dear, pull up the grass in a cape of sod,
Listen to the hummingbirds whispering to god,
While your and your newborn sleep in the blue crèche
I bought,
Or maybe not.