Unconscious Spell Poem by Robert Rorabeck

My tail bone like a vanished dousing rod,
Used to send out strange tremulous messages to you-
Half destroyed by the wars of high school,
Always bleeding in bed, attended by a blind nurse,
It rushes cross-legged through the states:
Sometimes it bounds pell-mell underneath the fences
Of clouds-
If you are not having an important conversation,
Stop for a moment, and listen to what I am doing:
We once crawled together on a rock which still hissed
And popped erudite with important time criminals:
And our double-lidded eyes perceived the bloom of the
Very first flower,
Just a crimson paint brush thought up by nothing through
The misaligned lava pools,
Cooling in the stone rhythm I ran my tongue along your
Beautiful platelets amidst the micas and gypsum,
And the premonitions of later sororities jubileed the air;
And the sun shone down from its preschool solar system,
Still learning the conflagrations of its otherwise
Unconscious spell.