The Narcoleptic Jasmine Poem by Robert Rorabeck

They gave to themselves the pleasures of
The hearts of the palm—
Like swing sets swinging over the sea
The airplanes flew over—
Wings spread without another care in the world,
The stewardesses stepping in their
Narrow cathedrals,
Serving over priced drinks between the pews:
Until the sun came up and enameled the
East—
And the serpent came and kissed the drunken
Beast—
And the sleepy rose eventually gave
The last kiss of dusk,
Its rosy negligee intermingled with the disappear
Perfumes of
The narcoleptic jasmine.