Over The Canal Poem by Robert Rorabeck

You can give your echo to me—
Or I can be your Romeo—
This is my thought as your younger sister lies kidnapped,
Happily over the canal
With the hummingbirds in the palmettos:
And I am always searching for something
With scars on my lips—just give me time:
And throwing your wishes like pennies into
The well of stars:
That is where she doesn’t have to say and single thing
To us—and that is where her work gets busied:
Where the cars are underneath the airplanes,
But unreal beside the sea:
And her thoughts become lost well before she can
Think of me—
And your eyes become blind, and your other senses
Surreal—
Awash in the formaldehyde like the pornographies
I am trying to share with her.