Special And Most Secret Girl Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Killing yourself by the sad blooms of eastern
Exits,
And now it is because it is really here and it really exists
That it blooms,
While I have my house and no cul-de-sacs and nothing else
That can be real;
And all of the bottle rockets have shot off,
And the children are touching themselves and saying their
Private names unto the school buses;
And nothing that was ever said here will ever survive:
There are only trains and the sad penumbras of whatever airplanes
Are that cannot be disproved;
And it just goes on and on, I swear it does-
And the light somehow happens onto the room;
I swear it does- but other than that there is only bliss, and school
Girls,
And the triangles that will always dissolve and disappear,
While the mountains will finally congratulate themselves,
For somewhere far hidden upon their slopes they have all
Found a special and most secret girl.