With Her Unkempt Eyes Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Half the bottle is gone and I am even more empty
Than I was before,
With the school buses circling around,
The schoolyards mating just as they was before;
And all of the light going down,
And the schoolyard closing, and all of my muses going home,
Back into the schoolyards that there were even before
Presupposing:
And the houses loom like magnified terrapin:
They loom and loom,
And the words of diamonds stretch out so languid before
All of them;
And they wait like precious minerals in the mines of their
Dorms,
Until the lighters come like stalwart young gentlemen,
Touching their brightest of heads to their flumes;
And then they come brightly erecting like glowing and
Cerulean tents in the gloom of schoolyards miles
Above the mausoleums of mice and tourists,
Glowing as I have seen you yet lighting out above the gloom,
Glowing like ghostly candles touching the lips
Of unconquerable fireworks mouthing off in the rock sewn
Bosoms utterly far above the graveyards
Of your popular aphorisms; and then you just douse your self.
And you realize that you love your new child and
You husband equally, Sharon, in the snowflakes that you have
Cut yourself out of the snowstorm;
And that I was never beautiful enough to truly love you;
And so you go walking like an unatuned orchestra over the
Dams that might yet glow with the leaking mysteries that
My mother still my yet give me with her unkempt eyes,
Sharon…. Sharon.