The Morality Of This Silly Fable Poem by Robert Rorabeck

This girl blows you to kingdom come;
It only takes a few seconds to buy ice-cream
For it to melt and run away across
The Astroturf of her love, with other boys as
Built up as lead balloons:
I pass Shetland ponies and orange fields.
Dreams of satanic cops are in the sky:
There isn’t a mountain in the sky:
They’ve all must have been laid in bed
Or smashed by the careless housewife’s circus
Hammer:
Five winning numbers in a lottery ticket thrown
In with the broken dolls and corn bushels
Beneath the counterclockwise cormorants:
Driving west like hot feet across the sand,
Not wanting to build anything that will leave a
Hole when the tide comes like
Mexican cleaning ladies to remove the desks of
School:
Otters are road kill like so much playfullness gone
On to sleep,
To resonate immortality unperceived persimmon
Stains on the hair-lips of drainage,
The little houses the body moves stand as forlornly
Still as the gutless airplanes.
As the sky leaps like startled does;
As it leaps and leaps never intending to come down
To kiss the outstretched palm grained in the
Morality of this silly fable.