What They Used To Love - Poem by Robert Rorabeck
Now all the children are done and grown up,
And they have put away their video games
And high school crushes;
They’ve staved off getting some dreams all this
But otherwise their houses are beautiful,
Even if they are not their houses:
And they create no more art, if they ever did.
And their swimming pools are beautiful,
And their wives are beautiful.
They have dinner and some kids,
And yet the canal creeps as it always does
The paradox of human dredge where the ancient
Gods sleep keeping tabs on all those wishes
The conquistadors superimposed;
So now, reintroduced, the iguanas find new abode
Down the embankments of yesteryears
Slapping kisses with the semitamed otters
Who come over and cluck and crack nuts upon the
Open breasts of venal sisters,
While all their grown up boys are away and hauling
Their heavy loads,
Just because they never moved too far down the
Ways of what they used to love.
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