More Resplendent Than A Diamond Sky Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Callisthenic monuments of another
Day’s preening:
My mother comes home through fiberglass porticos
The way mermaids come home from
Finger painting:
The grottos of skyways the stewardesses ballrooms,
And I dream of her underneath the ceiling fan spinning in
My room;
And the cats sigh tirelessly, and the dogs curl up to
Their repossessed masters,
And the virgins are the size of ants on each blade of
Vermillion grass, as the hurricanes fill up their tankards:
Underneath where there are lords in the sky,
And even lordlier lords above them;
And I hang my head and sigh, as you go into your boarding
House with him,
And the apathetic-est of wind whispers its raucous lullaby,
And his fingers slide your loose skin off you
As you become even more resplendent than a diamond
Sky with your lordliest lord above you.