Through Another Daylight Poem by Robert Rorabeck

You’re all bastards:
Go play baseball underneath those witches
And get hard-ons:
The moon pulls on your Johnny’s
And it feels
All right,
In the movie theatre with your girlfriend:
Or at home
In your bedroom in your wet dreams:
But you girls:
Beautiful pearls spilled out onto the orchard’s
Floor,
You are the favorites of my classes:
And you can last so long-
Immortal beauty of your legs and breasts:
And I can write about you forever,
Underneath the lampposts and
The moon,
After the churches have spilled out on Sundays-
And the wines have been drunken for
The Eucharist
And the bees are all fat upon their sugar daddy flowers:
All fat and holding hands up in heaven,
While my muse has gone to do the Laundromat
To do her familiar clothes
Through another daylight where all of heaven flowers.