These Playful Enigmas Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Into those playful enigmas where
The poetess always find out that they are dying,
The fairgrounds come and then are passed
Away, ass%oles and clowns passed
Down to another part of America—
As I, scarred, teacher, tread through the remnants of
Another high school—
As the planets come down like humming birds
To kiss and bless off the tits of the mountains,
To steal the lights and moon off the tourists—
To partake in their usual transgressions,
As the stolen light bobsleds off the glittering seas—
Made up like some Christmases to
Amass and play,
Just like the memories I jail in my heart—
And I don't want to say your name anymore—
For there are so many waves—altogether,
Just enough to hide all of the fishes in the seas.