Sky Full Of Scars Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Defeated, sky full of scars,
I waylay, find my empty love
In nuclear contaminated bars:
Oh what a game, won’t you listen to
Me, one of you busily pollinated sorority:
Anyone,
The girls in their sweet rows,
I ask you, what is more beautiful than the
Silence disseminated graveyard;
And I just want to hold hands with you
For awhile,
Naked children out in the wilderness of sun,
And read to you of the open book, the
Places where we’ve never existed,
The gardens we did not attend,
The afternoons of swing pools and bottle-
Rockets,
The fawning air-enlightened corals the wind
Creates the songs of anemones through;
There is no cleverness, no special mystery to
This thing; it is open, yet surreal, but in a
Non-aggressive way, the truthful emptiness after
The instructor has turned on all the lights again,
The film explained, and all these things I have
Attempted to parlay, just the awful shadows
Of an imprisoned man who has nothing to
Entertain himself except for the sick fancies
Of your unrealistic boudoir.