The Beauty The Vanishing Sky Once Knew Poem by Robert Rorabeck

And we’ll sell fireworks, one or the other,
By broken arms of broken brothers,
Underneath tents triaged in the New Mexican
Desert,
We’ll be forgotten,
But we’ll get what we deserve—

And the blue cats will plunder
Leaving foot prints above the fossils of
That evaporated sea
And some nearbye high school’s foot ball
Team will pray on bended knee

And without thinking too much about you,
Isn’t it somewhere around here where
I lost you—
During the ungodly misscommunications of
Marble
And the god awful hookers of Rout 66
And the banners that they bow to—

Amidst the holidays of cursed fortune,
And the rattle snakes—
And to the south, the endless frontera unfolding
Its thirstless mistakes—

I said some words to you and yet looked
Away,
I sold some fireworks for my father—
And while I was selling it all for him,
I gave it all away—
While they filmed movies in San Antonio,
In the beautiful river walk I once wished
We both knew,
Before I even beheld you—

And these long lines, like the blue prints
Of prisms
That were designed to show my fanfare for you,
But were forgotten—
Were ghast like seeds into the opulent
Deser for you—
And they lie there yet basking, blue and
Purple
Jems of scorpions and cadavers
Still hoping that you find them
While the traffic passes blindly by them

And the storm clouds clutter in
The beauty the vanishing sky once knew.