Robert Rorabeck - Blessed By Seahorses

Impossible fume this heart
Reading new lines—sweating— sweating—
Blessed by seahorses
And things that don't go so well with the light of
Day—
The windowless room swings above the
Labyrinths into which we will finally be going home:
And a Mexican rides my bicycle to the supermarket
Tonight—
You who I can no longer write poems for—
You who no longer reads my poems.

Robert Rorabeck

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/blessed-by-seahorses/