After School' Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Trying again, the young children yawn,
Hatching beneath the tombs- as all of the day is haunted-
But your body blooms-
Driving all day in its loneliness, and yet so
Happy with what you are-
Advertised beneath the billboards,
A muse diminishing in her car, and I have to think of
You,
Terrapin in the shoulders of the sunlight looking down-
Angel clouded by blue and
Purple cobwebs-
Sunlight melting through you, another ghost
Haunted on holiday
My famished dictionaries try to perceive,
But it doesn’t last-
The loneliness of playboys- the guts of unicorns
On display in the museums of witches
Casting spells,
As it takes a long time remember, but we try
Every afternoon, after school,
Touching ourselves.