Fairs have gone and <br />Ferris wheels—and soon it will be time for <br />My wedding banquet: <br />When I went to Shanghai for the first time <br />Around Christmas of last year and saw her for the <br />First time holding a bouquet for me next to <br />The airport next to her Uncle John: <br />I thought she was more than all right— <br />With all of her eyes lighted up with a pinwheel the <br />Same colors as I've never seen before: <br />And my heart is as happy as a jackrabbit just <br />Come out of a gentleman's hat for some type of <br />Magic trick underneath the mountain I just used to <br />Disappear of: <br />And I just want to have a daughter with her, <br />I just want to have a sun—and forget about the heart attacks <br />Of valentine's day—or the way the stewardesses run and <br />Leap over ethereal candles illuminating the dungeons on <br />Their birthdays—the way that cantankerous death finally <br />Grabs them and shuts them out, <br />Like my last muse at the bowling alley or at the fruit market <br />Until the day is gone—spent into the soft necks and <br />Kisses of house wives— <br />And the stolen bicycles rest pensive and illusive: <br />Where are they—only those accustomed to skipping school <br />Will ever know, but it is an eerie thought, <br />And all of the gardens surrounding her become over abundant <br />With deadly tricks— <br />And the sky blooms with dying heavens: Up there, <br />A grandmother who lived for unfathomable eons—giving her <br />Live to civilizations we can never think to explore or to <br />Even imagine: <br />As she waited for me on the tarmac and wept for me <br />Even after she had become my wife—and we were both staring <br />At each other through the corridor, something unutterably true <br />Down at the end of the mystifying kaleidoscope of all of <br />Our hallucinations.<br /><br />Robert Rorabeck<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/our-hallucinations/
