Of More Surefooted Resorts Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Colorful knights with beautiful scars,
And beautiful young mothers drinking at bars,
Looking up into the eyes of their sisters and across the
Street tire fires,
And polecats and buildings of knowledge that go up and up
For some stories though it seems forever;
And I have no girlfriend because I can hardly write,
And Erin, sweet Erin sleeps with someone else tonight,
While innocent Dragons come down from their orchards and olive
Trees and brandish their green wings over the soft clip of the
Seven seas:
They go to see dinner parties having out upon the yachts and barges
Of the hoity-toitys: their sad eyes shimmering like glowing plums,
Two for a dozen over the nuptials of the floating partygoers:
The beast who would like to say their name, who says nothing
And remains just long enough to grow weary which leads
Him to the hibernations far away and over the shoulders
Of the west bound trains where there are fireworks and simulacrum
And owls just in the very shoulders and veins
Of grizzly bears and soft footed panthers, which should prove to
Be better friends of more surefooted resorts.