Goatees Of Extremely Charismatic Martians Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Days that repeat, species and religions of
Days,
Crowded avenues in forest fire haze,
Crowded love like captured elephants in
Kalamazoo,
Uneasy sisters saying I love you’s;
And all these parks sitting still, supposed to be
Quieting spaces, waiting still;
Even their loves are lost, the sky is a hapless pail:
All I can see is the traffic repeating like gibberish
Brail;
And I loved a woman who happened to me,
But as she happened she happened to be
But as a fata morgana, a mirage from exhausted and
Expended fortitude,
Leaping across the dromedary’s desert,
Humping in the accosted stamens, front door and
Back door men;
Her lips seeming to be right there like a fire-engine red
Rose exposed and ready,
But really she was making love miles away,
States away, even countries away and further,
Exposing herself to cosmonaughts and the extremely
Thin goatees of extremely charismatic Martians.