The Arms Of Planets Who Are Still Alive Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Everyone is doing this,
Competing for a love I don’t know—
Flexing their muscles in bold letters,
And I am envious
And scarred—it is like I am possessed
And the night is full of cheerful traffic,
And the stores are buy one get one free
Even though the bride is dead
And what is left of her is wandering
The desert far off the shoulders of
The insouciant interstate—
And if there is anything more than this,
I don’t know how to spell it—
I don’t even know what it is….
And the sky wants to be full of intercourse,
Imports and exports in store fronts,
And storm clouds
As I watch them walking through the tent,
Tasting like birds should flowers,
A girl I thought I should know,
Who decided to spend her energies around
The arms of planets who are still alive.