While Everyone Decides What To Do Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Made for the green terraces, with the sorority of moons
Above the unicorns,
Grazing- grazing and purple throated- what frogs and
Princes there are watching them,
Ululating in the imaginations of shell and rebar,
Your mother in the grotto
Or the carport, barely even twenty- and she is sweating over
That machine, swearing and crossing herself
For your father to come home, skipping across the skulls
And bones,
The cenotaphs and pornographies of conquistadors and
Abandoned school girls, just so that she can feel okay-
The sound of her work so furious she cannot even
Hear the warning of the rattlesnake
As it comes out across orange extensions cords,
Wanting to kiss her too,
To put a vile of venomous pearl beneath her knee,
And then it rains, while everyone decides what to do.