To Look Her In The Eyes Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Not much to her, as the dead lay around
The Alamo—and the ghosts lit the candles of
The phosphorous of the stars,
And the boy who remained surviving,
Cupped his bugle and surrendered to the
Mexican army,
But gave to them a bad omen even while he put up
His instruments of lovely equipment,
Reminding them that this one day would be
A ceremony for tourists to build their classrooms,
Their day spas, and their silent campuses—
Where housewives would survive better than
The otters—underneath the moon and how she
Finally had to look away
Her physical features admitting to her thievery
That the world was once made out of a feral
Joy the men from her high school died for,
And stood up for—saying the pledge of their
Allegiances to her daydreams
Without being able to look her in the eyes.