Robert Rorabeck Poems

Shallow wounds, I know you are here, and I know
I cannot win- cadaver with a bouquet of roses, you will
Go home and home and home to
Him,
...

Even the rain clouds have shoulder blades.
They flex and sweat over the city of simulacrum
Who draw the pictures on the streets of
The latchkey children who also live there
...

They were singing once again in the atrium,
But what were their words:
The student parking lot was empty except
For birds,
...

Echoing- echoing, the bones are young
Filled with yellowed specters, like song birds who saw
It all
And were turned away- down from the yellow sun,
...

The trees are tremendous above the busses:
Even the bullies shrink, and their houses:
You know, these things are always created in the hues of
Your favorite colors,
...

This is very exciting- this is another night swallowed
Without wondering where all of the conquistadors
Have gone,
But back to their shallow estuaries and nurseries where
...

Again elevating, making love before a beach:
Levitating for helicopters who come primary colors
Before they excavate the swing-sets of
My childhood- the very amusements my mother pushed me
...

Once again from the Pacific Theatre,
You went home from school-
In the Phoenix desert, summarily dusted by
Haboobs-
...

Then it feels alright: the stars in their cathedral
And the night coming down through its curtains
Loving what it does,
Becoming married again across the deserts
...

Crippling luminosity make its aurora along the
Long trunk of a lustrous snake as
It goes up a mountain for a drink:
How long will she be its cradle,
...