Hurt Of Echoes Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Violent wounds air on the edge
Of a candle's flame,

Vision makes a creche of echoes
As the family falls together
To sleep as matchsticks,

Sunburned moths matted into the
Maiden's hair, daydreams making love
To ether in the hayloft:

Little girl, daughter yet up in
The living room watching dayglow
Cartoons splatter,
Little boy going to bed in mother's
Little arms, obsessing as I do
About singularity of things:

Of sex with one woman,
One man in an infinity of rooms-


A hurt of echoes numbs this beauty.
I will make more money as a ghost.
Impossible to imagine the infinity
Of dead ends in Minos's maze.

I used to imagine: a school, a mine field,
A rose garden. Nose to nose, the kissing
Beasts.

When a butterfly's wings touch,
They become the symmetry of twins
Kissing

Liaison of Disney world and milk shakes.