The Only Creatures Who Only Seem To Really Be Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Parasols that aren’t even real, carousals of chalk
Madams;
And I can’t even save my sister. My tongue is dry and
Stuck like a bat to the roof of my mouth;
And nothing moves and it is just like silk dressing
Rooms left vacant through the shallows;
And at night I dream of girls I should never dream
Of:
Girls who are married: They are all married,
And their eyes are the sea flowing in and out of
Incredible bays.
If any one of them saw me they might love me for tomorrow
And a day,
But all of the rest of it would just be my graveyard, just
As it should always be:
And the airboats float through the sky while my grandmother
Is underground;
And so soon I will be underground, and I’ve already had
Enough of all of these stores
And the brilliant senses mutating in orgies through the sky-
I just wanted to adopt her children and brush her
Thigh,
But she moved on after the first kiss of evening;
And she is so confused she doesn’t even know what to believe,
And she goes back to him and waits and the shadows surcease;
They seem to breath as the highway sucks in and waits:
They are the only creatures who only seem to really be.