By The Movie Theatres Of The Graveyards Poem by Robert Rorabeck

By The Movie Theatres Of The Graveyards



Poems of racehorses in
The snow—or anywhere—
Even star-crossed over my once-
Muse's abandoned household—
And will she still have
To go away tomorrow—still because
She is married
And now I am married
And expecting child—
As a little blood is drawn from the
Wounded playground—
As I get bored and blind myself
From staring at the pornographies
Of sunlight—
And she will have to go to him tomorrow—
As their shadows will swim together
After midnight—
Until the fairgrounds of my heart have been
Packed away and are gone—
And then another summer of another sorrow—
All told by the movie theatres of
The graveyards—appreciated by the naked
Yet beating above the ground.

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Robert Rorabeck

Robert Rorabeck

Berrien Springs
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