Saturday schools of canals, of wild otters playing with <br />Rolled grapefruit, <br />Of star-fruit and snails, <br />Of the wicked fairy-tales of water-moccasins twined <br />Like barbed wire on the rood: <br />Elizabeth teaches everything that is good, <br />But once her light fails, <br />I still want the underbelly of airplanes, the venal escargot <br />Of your beefy entrails: <br />I want to say your name and invade the country of your <br />Caves: <br />I want to paint your art and lick your slaves: <br />Oh, living cadaver of darts and valentines, <br />Brown, brown eyes: <br />You who love all the boys and go out onto the basket courts <br />For dinner time, <br />Spend one down struck evening with me: <br />Unbutton your blouse like you’ve done for every <br />Mouse in the entire infested house, <br />And lay your eyes softly down in the crèche of my own <br />Brown: <br />Lay your hands and body brown down into my <br />Graying town, <br />And we will hold out while the oil leaks, <br />While the rivers creak, while the sun is going down over all of <br />This playground- <br />By our anonymous things unrequited prom king and <br />Queen, <br />What a luscious venal scene: <br />Brown on brown, sand dollar-otter, <br />Sugar cane burning town- with the sun going, <br />Going, gone.<br /><br />Robert Rorabeck<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/brown-on-brown/
