Tears Of Its Canal Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Ribbons threaded in the tumbleweeds happening again
Into the forests beside the highway:
Coming again into her, and remembering all of their Catholic
Prayers,
Like starting up the mountain while falling down into the
Shadowless cave,
Striking up the preserves in a majesty as it evaporates:
Perloined into the recesses of automobiles,
Giving all of its love like glass pennies up into a river-
Feverish, haunting
Convenient stores where you can get gas and blow- jobs;
And the other things that sing to the haunts of the human senses:
Singing like the recordings of the ancestors played
To the jungle
As it thumps its throat, laying down its throbbing cadaver,
Like a murderous rose, like an insatiable mouse on the
Lottery of a luckless elephant,
And does away with her ballerina dreams, as it dries up the make
Believe tears of its canal:
As it eats itself.