Thundering Rains Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Unicorns kindle like the virgins of green suicide:
You glide over the sight of me with the age old religious wound
In your side;
And now I will live in a house as old as a Bible, and I will
Flip through pictures of you while I call you from my window:
And the children will smoke out of the chimney stacks
From the decrepit factories where are they are working for
Profit:
And I will give them chalk drawings at their feet like colorful
Murder;
And I will kiss the young girls’ mouths just as they are coming
Into age,
Just like the blooming yet illegal tributaries of sharks with strange
Conjunctions,
And I will show them my fleet of paper airplanes:
Maybe I will make them say Sharon’s times like so many Hail Mary’s
Even while she falls in love with another man other
Than her husband once again in the soccer fields where she has
Surely been playing again and once again in the deeper
And heavier thundering rains.