The Other Side Of The Earth' Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Accumulating in the wretchedness of their petrifaction,
Stoned in Riga mortis: how will these corpses now enjoy the vacantly
Pleasurable shelters of the structures they deserved
To hold mortgages on: while all of the fireworks shout like
Football players stoutly in the jubilee of mud pies in an
Away game across the centuries of tattoos and bruised
Cheek bones:
As if at night there was a fair ground high across the cross saddles
Of a truly believable high ground where the countries could have
Fought each other forever: and the night could have glowed with
The petulance of farm boys
Who had discovered kerosene and masturbation; and taking the
Tractors of the adults, driven into town to buy whiskey, laughing
At the stuck out spokes of the bicycles of a world underneath them:
And laughing just to swallow the rain believing it was her tears
For them,
While the animals were so infatuated they moved back into her
Forest even while the ambers curses:
For they were so in love, and they learned her language, and curled
About the fairytales of her maypoles wrapped in the butterflies and
Rainbows and the candy dropping of the yesterdays of her old
Skin: even though she’d gone, finding everything they believed they could
Sell to her useless- taking the forms of the forest and the streams,
Until she could find a lover who would suite her fancy- and the
Sun pulled her up by the throat and promised her the better adventures
On the other side of the earth.