The Sincerest Attempt

In beautiful pictures the kaleidoscope murders
To make more beautiful
I look at her underneath windmills and drinking fountains
In high school;
And when I go out to be alone it is to smell her there,
Wafting across the canal- the good side of my head
Stuck in oil,
From the wounded heart of a school bus,
And I wonder if she will make a good housewife,
Abandoned by me- maybe all the way up in Colorado,
While the tortoise eats its purple orchid
A discarded corsage
Of the sincerest attempt, continuing its usual
Routine.

by Robert Rorabeck

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