Where Your Paper Angels Turned Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Pomegranates growing outside of the
Orange and yellow flea markets:
But you will never forget about me,
How I brushed your sugar cane shoulders with
My astral fingers,
And made you come out loud like a full color
Television turned to its highest volume:
Made you scream through the minuets
As the girls high school volley ball team was
Playing a tournament-
Made you weep and orgasms right on the rug
Of your childhood living room,
Made you sweat and beat your breasts
Right up to the ceiling fans,
Where your paper angels turned around in
Dunned moats: but eventually they came down,
And rested quite perpetually underneath your
Sweat and tears.