Rainstorm Above An Umbrella Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Listen to my beating heart like a
Rainstorm above an umbrella
Invented in the time before inventions—
And now I can almost swear to you
That I am still right here
Panting like a leopard done with the
Livingrooms of housewives even though
They remain still in them:
Gathering their chandeliers and looking
Out into the mud storms:
Aren't they yet perplexed over what your
Birth will mean to me:
Crossing the world into a daydream no one cares
About—and all of the cars are abroad
And crying like the prettiest vortexes in their
Kaleidoscopes: until it happens again,
And nothing new is made,
But that strange pornography takes shape again,
And we are rooted into our otherwise purpled séances
And we have to look beautiful,
Shaking our hands and kissing our stars,
Because the rest of the neighborhood is looking to us,
Staring out of rain streaked windows and trying furtively
Just whatever it is that we are made in to believe.