The Immobile Shade Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I don’t need any of this- blue feathers on a headdress
Being introduced to the wind on a highway:
I have bled myself back and forth so many times
From here to Disney World,
And I am just glad to see her happy- the day spun in
A happy ghetto;
And at least he has her, and I have my dog who
Has fleas-
But the hurricane approaches, turning away the
Tourists, and ushering the Spanish tortoises up the skirts
Of mangroves- and it hurts not to be buried:
The lighthouse just standing there like a blind man.
Even the waves cannot tell who it is,
Just as useless as a burned down bowling alley- and
The prettiest song birds sing
At the very moment the devil sacrifices another
Pretty young girl to the prick of his jealous sting-
Staining her throat a little, like blooding perfectly
Golden hay-
So she lays tattooed underneath the bus, the domineering
Lion persuading her into his truancy’s pride:
After he has jumped through his fiery hoops, he lies
With her purring purplish in the immobile shade.