The Diamond Mines Of Centuries Ago Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I seem to be living here-
Starfish in a helmet that you cannot stand-
Stars up in the yum-yum’s,
Cursing to themselves as to their cousins:
As I am dying through the
Resins in
The dryness of the aqueducts of another heavens-
Just as I do not expect that you can
Feel me exposed in the
Dryly beautiful avenues of another heavens:
But I am here,
Crossing my own badges and bighting myself
Before the
Hydrangeas spitefully just as before any and all of
The last heavens:
And this is just the final avenue anyways-
The last midway, bare bosomed, showing the clues of
All of itself before all of the heavens,
Before all of the lights go out- and we have to drink
The ultimate libation in the dreary snow
Before all of that heaven: and
I suppose you cannot swear to this, because the goldfish
Are becoming fat as hydrangeas in any accord;
But the windows in which landed your grandmothers,
Are finally filly out,
So now- I guess- it doesn’t really matter how far
You’ve escaped from Mexico-
All that matters is the last of the plans of our cartographies:
As the oceans open their mouths like aquatic
Carnivores waiting to bight down upon the roses
Into which we’ve thrown our very selves
As if into the fires that just so happened
In the diamond minds of centuries and
Centuries ago.