Robert Rorabeck

Veteran Poet - 1,893 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

That Mountain - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I loved that mountain and
All she taught me. Until I went home
And ejaculated,
Had an affair with a Mexican woman,
And got married to a Chinese woman.
And I forgot about her—
The mountain,
Muse and mistress of my loneliness—
The midnight jaunts up her naked back on
Easter with the horses snorting before the rainstorms—
The galvanized bears and flesh eating dinosaurs
Disappearing as cenotaphs upon her open pastures—
Forgot about the gold rushes up her meadows
And the creeks that wept her blood tainted
With the perfumes of mummified wild flowers—
And my lost aunt lost within her wild summers:
I had children
And sold myself into the smallest amphitheaters
Of capitalism—
It got warmer when I drank but my wife so far
Has refused to leave me,
And so I continue on after my dog has died
And the amusements have shut down forever.
Maybe I will see her again. Maybe I will pass her way—
Tomorrow, the sun will come up over all of the
Beautiful women who will never know my name
And all of the airplanes will fly farther away from me.

Topic(s) of this poem: love and loss


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Poem Submitted: Sunday, March 22, 2015



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