My Battle Poem by Robert Rorabeck

My Battle



I do not have to wake up—
This isn't my life any longer—my heart fills with
Oceans as the baseball diamonds
Empty:
Once again I am drunk at the wishing well,
Hoping that I will win the lottery and
That the unicorn will surrender—
Magical creature as deep as my muse—
I get off the subways of Asia and have to attend
Classes in the deep, deep daylight—
And you are never coming home—
Auspicious shadow in a trailer park—here is
My death, handed into the hardy lips of a
Forest fire—it is not mystery:
I am done breathing—my first child is due in
April, and I am stumbling home to you again;
The astronauts fall, and so do the heavens—
I don't care—I awaken again tomorrow—
And eat everything that fails to metamorphosis—
I am the monster and this is my battle.

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Robert Rorabeck

Robert Rorabeck

Berrien Springs
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