Pestilent Orchard Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Outside, fishtailed palms
Exaggerate the wind which has come from
Underneath the overpass:
And down in Miami, my parents are
Selling Christmas trees-
My father is not talking to me,
A coward-
As the conquistadors christen the strata
Into which they remain anonymous
Landmarks-
As she swims away, an entire fair of my
Heart,
Pulsing like a brown jelly-fish:
She will go into the many nights of her
Family,
And return even more assured- just
The flirtations of nonsense over the graveyards
And the churches that I busy with her
Uneven promises-
Lines on my wrist casting out fortunes-
Another night spent alone,
And my skeleton a pestilent orchard into which
Sleepwalks her unicorns.