The Slanted Elements Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Art sifting as a match'
The traffic going by penumbrous, but
Making no illusions:
The average day settles,
And the armies in her close their eyes
Like baseball teams that don't believe they
Have a chance'
That beauty somehow survives in her
Skirts'
And the failure of the amusement parks into
The recesses of trailer parks
Where my cousins make love to one another
On a fieldtrip of the dumbly
Sublime'
Just as Eve comes to Adam, her arms filled
With plunder in the slanted elements
Of the age-old picking time.