Robert Rorabeck Poems

My body sweats inside of new junctures:
All of your life swimming in the banishing ambers of
The rivers that no longer move:
Alma, I have had dreams of Guerrero where you lived, where
...

So we had lunch together and then I died
And licked the spilled liquor off the coffee table
I bought for a song,
And even now I am listening to the train, and typing so much
...

Now my soul is as wrecked as the face of my body
On the shoals,
And all of the pirated ships of kindergarten are waiting underneath
The caesuras of the blue gilled knolls,
...

I keep moving without moving:
I keep tramping without song, and some folk call me beautiful
Underneath the dark tresses of the
Night so young,
...

Bodies fill up with noise
Because it is you that I want as I slam the glass
Down:
And I feel like I am kindergarten and have been dragging
...

The chances were golden and made to fly and
They stuck to the roofs of all of our loneliness like
Little children of nocturnal mothers
And I saw you hanging out at your favorite store with
...

Slow down the sounds of woe,
The jet planes sleeping in the snow,
While the unending light cuts the yard in two,
In a Siamese twin the mailmen knew,
...

The tulips are all busted, but she liked my
Unicorns,
And these are the things we sing to her after she
Has left my house,
...

The ponies had a ride out to Lake Tahoe
To have a look around,
And to kiss the sharks underneath the purring airplanes:
There, the sky was so peaceful and evenly spread,
...

Bound under a cliff of worry alongside a
Coast that bled truth,
Like two turtledoves in a blue rookery:
We made love and supplanted our flesh, and pressed our
...