Robert Rorabeck

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

The Fieldtrip's Playgrounds - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

And I'll look out with the sun going down—sinking into the crèche
OF a hurricane that will happen to take away our future—
And obscure it beneath the merry-go-rounds, and shopping malls,
And the abandoned book stores—
That your family will live in—having their dinners above the homeless
Cats that skip like coins amidst the gravestones—
And the dead will look up, captivated by their insouciant paths—
Thinking this the birthstones of their heavens—
So you will remain to me, a song without any joy—
As the beautiful girls jog through the greenery upon the campus where
Your eyes are always so drunk that they cannot sea
And the ocean swell over your shoulders: they are like young boys
Reaching up and learning how to kiss and give bouquets
To the stewardesses who are always leaving their fieldtrip's playgrounds.


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Poem Submitted: Sunday, August 26, 2012

Poem Edited: Monday, August 27, 2012


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