Those Very Promises Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Words on the comb of a c$ck hypnotized
Before the caesuras of the very leaping waves of the sea:
And now this: now this,
I have a house just as little and just as yellow as me:
And the airplanes peruse, and as they purr,
She picks out the plums she’d rather take to her house,
And I bag them,
And then look away into the shadows under that very sun,
As she takes back her car keys and drives away
With the three bouquets that I’ve stolen for her:
Her children waiting for her brown bosom the same way
Hatchlings await for the return flight of their mother
From the strange opulences of the sea:
She brings them back all of her promises, and feeds them those
Very promises she should have fed to me.