The Ixora's Red Entrails Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Head strong boys with championship toys
Bric-a-brac and march along,
Drumming the footsteps of a forest’s song,
Like in bed I touched Alma’s knee as tiny as a doll’s
China plate,
As brown and gorgeous as the throat of a whipperwhirl:
Whirlpools in the sky and fix it men:
I want to lay in bed with Alma again, and remember my
Troubles to another world,
And take of my troubles as we unclothe, our eyes as sated
As the spumes of whales,
As we look out of our home’s windows into the privacy
Of the ixora’s red entrails.