To Look Over Her World Poem by Robert Rorabeck

This is not Halloween
But this is still Shanghai even some
weeks from burning
Fake money to my wife’s
Dead grandfather—
And it is past midnight
But the airplane that will take me home
Is still floating in the sky
And not sleeping inside of a pumpkin
patch
and while I drink it continues to rain, .
Modestly,
And I have modest dreams
Of where myself and my family will
Live once or twice,
Out of the limelight,
Where the vanished arcades must once
Have existed,
In between the fairy tales of Indians
And the race tracks underneath the mountain;
But eventually and for the mean time,
I will just have to close my eyes
And here then
Everything will have to get beautiful—
The rugged clams will have to close over
Her mouthful of pearls,
And sleeping beauty will just have to go
To sleep forever,
While the monsters of forever continue
To look over her world.