Voluptupuous Catastrophes Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Churches and playgrounds where
The kind hearts recede—
And the lilac airplanes can be seen doing anything to
The purple hemisphere—
Just like arrows fleeing Valentine's Day—and
Other echoes
Called from the tulips of housewives—
There they are on their verandas imaging that they could
Be making love with the
Mailman or the milkman—until he comes, and he looks away—
They go back the mirages in the grottos of their
Kitchens—the evolutions of their destiny—
They keep trying to remember the schools they attended
And the boys they loved—
But their thoughts keep eluding me—as I write to them
And it rains—a figment of my imagination in a
Playground of voluptuous catastrophes.