Blame Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Blame causes the sun to fall from the sky—
He is in love with someone else.
The sky is his wife whom he does not love—
She has gone shopping leaving him
To the suicide—
The bosom of the sea is his muse,
What gentle allusions she gives him,
Showing off the jewelry she pretends to
Steal from the thieving moon—
The night proceeds over their love making,
The messenger of blind men
That raids over the university with the dawn,
Or other places nearby where I look up,
Pretending to see you in, the cool air
Filled with the valentines of vampires—
Or whatever delusions that leak like the runaways
Outside of theatres—in the avenues of
The casualties' soldiers, and in each wave
A vanished kingdom that crashes
Against the playgrounds of her bosom
As they descend once again into the marriages of
Evermore.