The Unobtainable Travels Poem by Robert Rorabeck

As alcoholic as your mother, planes flying overhead—
I will be going back to Shanghai to see you, my wife—
In June—
Another despotic summer, but the first time in memory
I don't have to sell beautiful fireworks underneath billboards
As the cars of America drive by—
Waves of a family's purpose—and I am done with whatever
Adulteries I had, but not with this liquor:
Just a little glass, as the sun tips over the earth—
And she spins—spins, a reasonless goddess until the night
With her many constellations
Representing the unobtainable travels of who we are
Meant to be.