The Fit Amusement Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Forts of cadavers with their
Favorite flowers,
Showing off for tourists in the pollinated showers
Of spring,
Eating ice-cream instead of learning Latin:
And the airplanes leaping,
Leaping like the falls of quick silver honeymoons,
Back across the oceans that they once fought for,
And into another time
Where the hillsides of white-sheeted windmills was
The only form of entertainment for
The somnolent lovers, eating of each others’ own
Fairytales,
Their tongues sprinkling their bodies with the spitfire
Havoc of little anemones;
And it was a holiday of respite
That I cannot remember, for it must have only happened
To my mothers’ mother;
And all that I can recall of it is the dim retinue,
A pantomime scribbled into a vanished high school’s
Bathroom stall- but it still seems that it
Must once have happened, if only just to give good measure
To the fit amusement of a fairytale country’s far
Away romances.