Your Tongue Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Cadaver that has to listen to the dogs breathe
Above it—
Who, broken hearted, howl to the moon,
Or to the floating ships
That glide against the half-hearted balloons—
While my mother and father sleep
Together in their monogamous
Ballrooms—
But what words I have left only rhyme with
Their echoes—
The daylight is no longer young—
All of the bicycles are stolen—
The cat has got your tongue—
With your eyes so blue and petrified—
Against the billboards over
The cities that only sing to themselves—
The world is far and the world is wide
While the virgins cannot even count on themselves.