Pranksters of my boyhood still lighting off <br />Fireworks across the roofs of another school day— <br />Like all of Mexico laughing <br />As they propagated and made new streams into our <br />Beautiful delusion—and shot roman candles straight into <br />Our eyes, <br />Scarring us with the song that was in their loins: <br />Not afraid of airplanes, because knowing that, like the moon, <br />They could steal that too: <br />Until I found you safely under a bus in a rainstorm <br />And we made love forever right in the middle of school.<br /><br />Robert Rorabeck<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-the-middle-of-school/
