Love Craft Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Lord over me in the funny spaces only you
Perceive,
Peeking in between and moting the wings of airplanes;
And I will just be down caracoling in the zoo,
Because I don’t want your species of wife anymore:
Strange and exotic circumstances have led
Me to find refuge in the pieta of a banyan tree:
Here all the limbs are emoting: here where the salmon
Flamingos nest like an unexpected lottery,
Where the graves of conquistadors fester; and the Mexican
Boys play futbol in the long and chartreuse playground
Just one yard over;
And I can look up to you and play my ukulele in my yellow
House built long before you could even be the muse
That I finally turned away: she that has gone to her
Expectedly casual boudoir like a green canon ball resting
Dead center in the alpha fraternity;
And I will sing of you no more; and I will turn away and
Open my windows and my door for one
Just as beautiful that happened suddenly and was not expected;
But one I will be forever practicing my love craft for.