Your Hopeless Name Poem by Robert Rorabeck

And the busied fruit market gone
With the bumble bees underneath the airplanes,
Just as my dreams of
Houses or marriages with you:
You have leapt across the canal
And back
Into Mexico,
Brown eyed beside the firelight beside your
Children
Where your husband keeps you,
Because you used me—because you could not love
Me,
But took me down from the sky and played with
My wings:
And now my wife is busy breathing on the
Other side of the Earth:
But soon I will have her, which makes me think of
You, even though you are gone,
And it is only these things burning which linger,
Trying to carry your scent at least up to the clouds
To amuse another god with your hopeless name.