I haven’t yet realized beauty: I haven’t yet done anything <br />Good, <br />Like stolen your eyes from the newspaper, <br />From the printed lies: <br />I’ve stolen bicycles and slips of moon, <br />Stolen kisses from my old girlfriend ten years old; <br />But I’ve just been rude, <br />And antichristian: I’ve salivated to the things you put <br />On your wrist- little green stars who feed hypnotized chickens, <br />And I love the clouds that diadem your crown <br />The best: <br />And yellow busses turn, turn, and turn, as if hypnotizing <br />The leaving class of students- <br />And I never learned where you lived in Wellington, <br />But when it finally got over I went to California <br />And failed, <br />Before I skipped back across the earth and settled for her, <br />And fell in love again down in the short-grass easements <br />Beside the alligators short-stacked in their canals; <br />And it should be almost over, <br />Because I am no longer in kindergarten; I no longer take <br />Fieldtrips to the Flagler Art Museum: <br />All the time travels are over, and the ladies are nakedly tired <br />In their bowls of framed gelatin: <br />Your eyes go for so many ways, so many ways back to other <br />Countries; but I am still hungry for fried chicken <br />And graveyards: <br />Still hungry for other women who just the same care even less for <br />Me- <br />And I will follow their sashayed skirts, into the past and in the future; <br />Across the stagnant traffics and orange groves, <br />And spikenard and airplants bloom red pistilled under the bulbous <br />Plumes of farting commercial airlines, <br />Some you will see going along the same lines across the cerulean <br />Blanket which covers both you and me.<br /><br />Robert Rorabeck<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-cerulean-blanket/
