One Or Two Brown-Eyed Girls Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Wounded on a mountain waiting for
Inebriation—a decade of drinking at the feet of
The gods,
The rain running down like lost boys to
Their sommeliers- -
And other curses tangled where there are
Too many trees fallen down into
Pieta—
The brevities of delusions stretches out—
Soon, the schools we’ll have to attend—
Trying to remember where there is purity:
Children unabashed in the evaporations of
Foreplay—
And the glances of one or two brown-eyed
Girls.