Robert Rorabeck

Bronze Star - 2,196 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

The Band Plays Something That We Should Not Have To See - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

How many words sent out like doves,
To return yet faithless with only dark streaks in their
Like sentinels but who knows what they’ve
Been watching:
Another line sent out for one or two muses,
Who might as well be still-life on the slab, or married
Paralegals, moving to all parts of the world,
Parceled out like shifting glass in a kaleidoscope
Except for me,
Except for my muddy bed- I am an amphibian,
I crawl back from the carport to the sun;
And I’ve never been atop the roofs of firehouses to
See how they work;
And now isn’t the band marching, but we shouldn’t have
To see them, because we are supposed to be in school:
And there is a really good lesson we can go
Chasing after on or bicycles, like faithful dogs,
While all throughout these houses and the choicest pines,
Her perfumes seems to linger like a poisoned memory,
As the band plays something we should not have to see.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, January 25, 2010

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