I hear the rumor of dancing green mermaids:
For moments they seem to be,
Leaping breathlessly and coughing from the
Traffic’s bolero;
But I have lost my will to go see them,
For the chickens are already dancing with the
Serpents at the low end of the ski lift,
And I want to see the end of them,
While each tree enraptures the wooden epitaph,
A steed birthed from an acorn
Which bad men entrain and dance of the jib,
Nefarious scallywags with candles burning in their
Beards,
Already have those vermilion mermaids eating out
Of their hands at two a peace,
And the traffic streams to a rather new kleptomaniac
Séance;
But I don’t care:
I just want the love of a good woman to last a life time,
A daughter named Ganymede,
And a son who has his back turned, who is always running
Away from me
Like the most beautiful aspects of this baseball universe.
Robert Rorabeck
I Have this Garden of Poems
at first and then carried away with my greenthumb i planted everything trees and more trees and shrubs and bamboos and vines and hanging plants almost everything and so the blooming flowers died and the grasses diminishing like some hair of this baldness but nothing is lost in this garden of poems the birds came and built their nests some are still coming every morning and then the chirping begins |
The Most Beautiful Aspects of This Baseball Universe
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