Mexican Paint Job Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Falling from Ganymede you are forever
Laughing,
You are passing the bus and you are not my friend—
Shadow on the wall,
Friend to a tear—
And I am looking up, suddenly awakened
Beneath the Christmas tree—
Are you still with him,
I wonder in monuments,
As the daylight sheds its own curses,
The molting of rattlesnakes and watermoccassins:
My father in law cooks dinner and
Speaks in mandarin:
My wife from Shanghai holds the baby,
And I am not thinking of
Anyone—
I am not thinking of you—
I lost my job as a public school teacher—
Tomorrow I will sell rip off Mikey Mouse watches
At the flea market,
But it will be raining: I will not sell a thing.
I will have to move back to China—
My wife will get a job; it will be as if I am on the
Other side of the moon:
I will never have to think of the things I did with you
Again.