(04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)


Tongue the lightning-lord,
The cowboy plowing dust in
The beat up Ford:
Shush the baby ripening on
The umbilical cord:
Clap the green knight’s neck
With the sword,
Then notice then:
She is marrying the strong men,
Traveling sales-men,
Nautical heroes, seamen:
The golden skinned Jason,
Their loins in engorged juxtaposition:
Another drunken mother
Laughing in his harem,
Lying down then in
The sky’s bend, unworrisome:
Her hair undone, her dress undone:
Her eyes unwound to the skies,
Her lips balmy and practiced,
Her limbs like resting kines
Waiting for the new fragile
Butcheries to come in,

by Robert Rorabeck

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