I stand in you the shallowness of echoes
Waiting for the bus
As the lions yawn- and your children whose
Pink ribs are as if candy
As if roses scattered across the shell rock:
I am sure they would rather me at home-
I am sure that they would rather be almost anywhere
Else, as the sun rises
And the earth in her neighborhoods effervesces,
As she has been at this a long time
While there has been so many restaurants and daycares
Planted about her,
And so many things she doesn’t care about
But are lucrative, just as I saw you the other day,
Golden, hatching, but you went off following
Him- and my neighborhoods smelled of your perfume:
And my wrists smelled of the tears and carnivals
Of your body,
Even though it was not echoing- so it too became
A franchise of saltwater and horseshoes-
And then like a lament over a battlefield decorated
By arrowheads, you gave yourself to another man-
And I left the asymmetrical fields of your almost
Beauty, my defeated warriors never to be entertained by you
Again.
Your Almost Beauty
Did you enjoy the the artible “Your Almost Beauty” from Robert Rorabeck on OZOFE.COM? Do you know anyone who could enjoy it as much as you do? If so, don't hesitate to share this post to them and your other beloved ones.
Leave a Reply