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Underneath The Alamo
Lost in the water fountains of another high school
Looking up and down
And up and down her legs: where is she headed to—
Like best wishes blown—
Like ashes blown over a birthday cake, over all of
The pretty fish of the sea—teaming, aquamarine,
Basking and fluted and so alive!
Underneath the skies in their teaming banners
With no help from their godd$mned mothers:
They will have to go to school tomorrow, as she goes
To the supermarket—
And the Ferris wheels to another town,
As the golden fish continue to swim around and around
In the forgotten rivers underneath the Alamo.
poem
by
Bret R. Crabrooke
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