The Most Beautiful Of Muses Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Up in the Spanish hills where I get nose
Bleeds
I’ve found another love
In biology class-
And I know you don’t even know
Her,
But you’ve seen her in the bowling alley
Drinking beer
And striking out:
She is also a vermilion swam amidst
The saplings they just planted:
She is also
A tombstone- and a wart:
She will not come when the blue bird
Calls,
Sometimes she drinks water from both of
Her lips-
Or from the roots of an evergreen,
And sometimes she orgasms alone:
I know you do not know
Her,
But you watch her from her open window
As she cooks dinner blouse less-
In fact, no one knows her,
And this is just my first psalm of a broadside
I intended for the most beautiful of muses who
Never existed.