Very Much A Lake Of Fire Poem by Robert Rorabeck

This is my little house:
In its fire flaming: In my little art, a forest blazing;
And if I had the heart, I would look across
The hills,
My father’s trucks burning, and your godmother’s baby shower
All lit up like light bulbs of a Ferris Wheel that would
Soon leave town,
While estuaries meandered heartlessly, while the fables flooded
Even while their vines rose and seemed to yawn exaggeratedly
Towards the summits
And to the underbellies of airplanes:
The convections of cotton candy and candied apples of a celestial
Baseball game,
And then while even then we looked up together and saw
The lions and the mountain lions yawning mutually:
While then the day was capped
And made to snow its tears, and the lambs shared dreams with
The grizzly bears, while over the fires the shadows of men and their
Cousins leapt:
They leapt like dark creatures over the movie theatres that wept,
And lit their last stalwart roman candles and bottle rockets
In memory of the sweetest cheerleaders and stewardesses
Until the entire campus was like a forest fire, full of hosannas,
And very much a lake of fire.