Shush And Shush Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Sailing on a magic carpet of
Styrofoam I broke my jaw on the side
Of I-95,
When I was only four years old and
No one was home:
Now I want to cover the sea with sod,
Because I lost my virginity
To a green carpet in a great big house when
I was….
When I was a superhero in high school,
Surrounded by cowboys and Indians
And Lincoln logs
And paper cats and calico airplanes:
And all my stewardesses had names which were
Interchanged as they watched me
Beat myself like a foul baseball player,
My pallid oilfield of eternal wealth;
But now shush,
Shush you candles, but still burn on like the dead
Soldiers decapitated in the wishes of my Somme….
Or somewhere shush,
And sway like brushes to the girls I know and love
And want to play,
And say their names like skipping wishes over the dirty
Canal,
Straight over the blue eyed backs of every blue gill:
Sharon, shush, my sick muse,
And love me while the elk and reindeer bugle in the dusk,
For the aspens are all naked now,
And the tourists blush,
And my hand holds nothing…. Nothing but empty
Rust:
So shush, Sharon and your daughter:
Shush and shush.