My Lovestruck Fairgrounds Poem by Robert Rorabeck

In the throats of pretty chords hold their notes,
As lakes hold their tears as if in bluish plates, even while
All of a sudden the incensed ripples of
Disturbing loves appear and then fish outward, skidded
By the moon;
And all of suburbia holds its soft and easy tune:
In one strange ululation of a shared but calmed dream:
The bean stocks are all plundered, the Titans are missing,
And Jack will never be coming down again
By those old means:
His fairytales are all used up, his throat is shaved:
He could be played by a beautiful girl,
If he only knew how to behave; and he has become lost somewhere
Over the middling fair,
Because he is like me, pining over your hair, languishing in a fruit
Market, though maybe neither of us belonged in there,
Alma;
And the world as become your cup for me; and I hold you in my
Eye as long as I can, and then in my mind; but I always feel you
Slipping away, like a beautiful child trying to leave my mind
Which becomes a ticking graveyard when you are not
There,
Across the borders of which the thinkless cars pullulate
As if they were trying to fertilize the chalk abounding a fortress
That can never awaken; as my words set off for you
The un spindling fireworks that hold no joy and burn everything down
Until you are once awakened and called once again into
The senses who so busily once again awaken the insatiable hearts
Of my lovestruck fairgrounds.