Space Shuttle Of Her Thigh Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Going down, space shuttle of her thigh,
See what they have
Recorded of her things: Barrett in her
Hair,
Celestial orchard demoting constellations
Like grapes
Above the pristine prism yards-
They are going back to school on her:
They are holding up their hands
In class: what atmosphere a ferris wheel
Makes while it is in town,
Transcendental across the soporific alligators
Who have been there for awhile.