Monarch Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I am a Monarch.
Try to eat me and I will poison you.
You see, my love, I was once without
Wings,
And I crawled on your shoulder
As you tanned and kissed his mouth,
Good boy- When at home,
In between the cypress and the jars
Of marmalade you made out of
Your tears and spit, didn’t you
Lift me past the tiles of the shower,
And in the mothy corner I cocooned,
And you sang to me in perfect acoustics,
Lathered and stretched,
And your flowers oh so budded.
Foul mouthed, you used a dictionary
To describe the things you wanted done
To you, and I waited, and you waited.
When I came out, your were dating,
And I flew over your books and hydrangeas,
And wept insouciant vapors, and made
Spontaneous love to a wind-chime.
You saw me there relaxing, but I fluttered
Out of reach as you opened your blouse
And showed me where to place myself,
But I could not, for I was yellow, and
Made like my sisters and brothers into
October, leaving for Mexico and the orgy
Of the forests and cacti; When I come back to
You, I will slip into your mouth and make
You moan my name,
And that will be the end of us,
Two souls buried in a beautiful grave,
And news of heirlooms metamorphosing underground,
The whispers of a promise I give to you,
My caustic anonymity folded in-between yours.