Over Every Other Candied Daydream Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Brown shouldered on your broom sticks—
Starve like a match in the very air—doing a carnival above
The courtyard: Look how all of the tallest boys have
Stopped playing baseball and are all
Putting their bats down:
It is a wedding up there—that is what you are,
But not of Christian ceremony—things of the ground grow wings
To metamorphosis nearer your body—
You light off—a playground with a fuse, curtailing and periwinkled,
You go until the amazed hobos see you like a comet over
The cerulean lights of another catholic church,
And the waves areola and nipple, wetting their chaps—
Like boys busy to realize who you are—
Evaporations over every other candied daydream into sky.