No Reason To Exist Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Night unglues,
Chemical bonds of homeopathic cities
Return to the spindles of a wimpled
Sky,
And not far a field, the teal collateral waves
Paint the limestone fences of the
Conquistadors’ graveyard,
And nothing is seen, and nothing is heard:
And the memorial park is spaced as evenly as
An orchard of wooden faith,
Bu instead of oranges and Mexicans, they
Are putting in plastic bouquets
For immortal faith- and no cats are buried,
And no dogs nearer their families
Tumbleweed tombs, except in Ancient Egypt and
Polynesian bedrooms;
But though I barely have touched you, I still lick
My fingers from the slight molecular bonding of
Unreal high school,
And you seem to come down like a moat of light over
The sea,
Jacob’s Ladder leading me to the higher fruit of
Defeated fables, so that there is no purpose in morality,
Or reason, but only your nightgown fetching
Sweaty snowflakes,
And uninvited I should really come and be happy if
Just to be the shade of your illogical annoyances,
And collect with the impassible spaces
Between your opal shoulders, your marble hips,
Those unrelated heirlooms which are all the more
Priceless because they have no reason to exist.