Their Pretty Umbrellas Whistling Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Crawling up to its belly, milky with the lactates
Of spring: it coos, coos as it calls for it again: the hungriness
Spent before any mother like a ball of unwound
Rattlesnakes mewing in the darkness until
They are fed the kittens who have run like marbles down the steps
Until they are soft and white in the corpuscles of the darkness;
And all of the campus is lost, and the thieves have run away with the
Bicycles and it makes for a rude awakening to the premature
Aphorisms that are sparkling quite nude in their
Pools everywhere, and just about anyone can stop and mouth off
To the ultra bright crenulations that stamen for the housewives
Who have so much time to spend with themselves
While the bottle rockets of their short toothed truants go off in their
Backyards and or overhead: and they make their pretty umbrellas whistles
Above the torpidly sojourning alligators- who are going just about
Nowhere, and overhead.