Such Proof Poem by Robert Rorabeck

How can you see me weeping through the mountains-
The airplanes don’t care that I’ve been doing this
Hard mining for so long;
They are quick silver; they are almost superheroes surfed
By leggy courtesans;
But I don’t see why you shouldn’t care:
I’ve been lighting off these dysfunctional fireworks for
So long, I’ve blown off both my thumbs but
Still haven’t scared off any of the eager young crocodiles;
And green copper canons long necked out on the terraplain
Are not a good cure for boredom;
And I should have buried you underneath the sneaky rose
Bushes when I had the chance,
Before your eyes could steal away my soul- haunting,
Sad that they had to go and kill the caterpillar today;
And I can almost smell you, you are so real to me, Sharon;
And, of course you don’t care; you say, you’d smell the same
For any eager young man all sweaty having just done gone and
Left the graveyard and water-skiing-
And the literary agents agree, that there are no mangroves in
Saint Augustine, but it was a good try; but your beauty is just
As anachronistic to my studded scars, so how could
It every be possible to open up an new store together and exist
On the same forbidden atmosphere as the very same invisible
Monsters whose footprints swallow entire clothing styles,
Who themselves are not very real;
And tonight another man’s finger falls like a stricken canary
Poisoned first in the infected mine, such proof.