New Subject Matter Poem by Robert Rorabeck

When I drink, I pray to my three foot tall
Virginsita for the safety of Alma and her two children:
And to return her to me without a thought,
For I am that hungry- like the fox that is always
Leaping fruitlessly:
And I made the mistake of calling her zorra on
Friday, when we both came back together and went
Back to work:
Why then all of the cars and trucks parked underneath
The paper airplanes and watched the movies
Of my parents lost and needing money in Arizona-
So now all of my dolls are broken,
And the world spins, calling up new reasons for the same
Monsters:
And nothing very important ever sells, and all of
The conquistadors are lost anyways: I’ve tried at being
Very demonstrative,
Or even starting new subject matter, but she always comes
Back to me this way-
And then the sky jumps off its cliffs, and I fall down again
With her brown body ululating with all that I’ve
Known to be ecstasy.