The Sun Caresses The Seas Poem by Robert Rorabeck

All of a sudden stood up,
The heart at the brink of an earthquake: going to the bank,
She takes off her clothes and
Staggers, horned—
A thousand horns matriculating to the summit of a storming afternoon:
There, forever, once in a while, she looked beautiful
Even while she was berating herself
That this was the world that we would have
To live in—
The sun at a slant, the pasture at the foothills of rainbows
And the footprints of the masticating calves
And their always more than ambivalent architectures:
Into the slanted postures of all of the valleys—
And the mechanical natures of nursery rhymes:
Well, anyways, this is where we would forever after have to live,
Always:
Beautiful, but slaves to the sea and always working more and
More towards her,
The sun un-burning her head and looking in a thousand directions,
Like a herd of a thousand horses thinking all at once,
And tossing her manes
In the all too many ways in which the sun caresses the seas.