Robert Rorabeck

Bronze Star - 2,195 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

The Starlets Of That Superimposing Glade - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Romance is the formula for a
Queen,
To persuade her to undress her armies,
And then herself in a bed she herself made,
The milk of the kind mother
In the meat of her shade;
And I laugh just as sadly as if I had found her
Watching from the carbuncle
Of this terrapin, like a family heirloom
Swept under the clouds by the swishing brooms;
And what color are they but the window
Dressings of the first wave of her senses;
Those very purposeful corridors who must allow
For anything else to proceed;
And her name is weeping from the convertible
At the drive in movie where
The fruit is shaken from its cluster into the
Open lips of the shade,
Just as peeling thighs relax, doors welcoming,
Under the larger than life senses of
The starlets of that superimposing glade.


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, February 3, 2010



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