Roses Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I wish I could take Diana to the fair-
I wish I had the balls to give that goddess roses,
That I had the guts to summit bouquets of mountains again
So that I could see the fine colors atop the
Wings of one sad mariposa,
Forlorn like a lost prism ejaculated underneath the careless
Fuselages of gusty airplanes:
Diana has the hair of a goddess that doesn’t fade;
And I seemed to come into the jet stream of her motions
All this night,
Jubilant pinwheels pressing mechanical lips to the motions
Of insightful inebriations;
All the feels manifested in the body’s caracoles;
And Friday I think I should like to be a mouthy mailman and
Deliver my pledge of fidelity to the very fine Columbiana
Who delivers my pastries every morning-
I think I should like to invite her and her daughter to
The fair,
To deliver her faithfully to the oxygenated planets that bud
From the perfume of her senses;
I think I should promise her rings with my eyes;
And I think that I would like to give her
All of my roses.