The Pretending Number Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Fell off the stage for somebody, and slept underneath
A school bus
To lay in an orchard of shadows with a terrapin-
With your eyes,
And breakfast all around you, laughing-
Until you made them cry by breaking up with them-
And the saddles are between the mountains-
Isn’t that where aspens grow in a different type of
Sorority than what we have right here-
While our little brothers sleep outside in blue tents-
Out numbered, they pretend they never have to
Go to church again,
Just as I pretend I never saw you kiss his lips-
As I watch you from the shore,
And you became the illusion the failing light played
Across the cliffs- and kept the firemen up
All night with your illusions- until
The lighthouses dimmed beneath the horrendous
Mobiles, swearing they’d had enough.