Robert Rorabeck Poems

Torpedoes in twilight
With the mosquito biplanes,
And the polygamies of ire- the spotter
Marked the Bismarck, and you were over
...

In the land of bolts and blood,
I saw my old girl riding stud:

He was fast, and he was lean;
...

The elk are starving,
And the rivers are growing bold.

Novice wolves are practicing
...

Tinhorn cufflinks and pale alligator boots tapered to a point,
And Marteen is ready to return to his second wife in Mexico- Only
Yesterday, I stopped for him to get a fifth of southern comfort whiskey
At the Old Red Barn in Sanders, AZ, and he talked all the way home
...

Look at the way the verdant winnows the light,
And there in the sheaths of stems, in the throbbing photosynthesis,
I suppose, is the essence of the dreamer’s home:
...

This opening seems clandestine for another go around,
While the octogenarians are falling into their parasitical sleep,
Feeding with lime the roots of aborted orchards nodding like
Unused utensils against the steady roll and shutter of the interstate,
...

Liquor is bright,
And the world is silent in its go around,
And the least things have the most to say,
And it is unbelievable I am still here-
...

Pain burns out eventually like an exhausted fire,
Like a scarred baby shushed into sleep approaching
The bleary dawn,
Smoldering as it faints, dreams of walking:
...

When you don’t make a sound,
I love you,
And I want to abduct you and take you to Africa,
Realize the bloom, and become a new species-
...

Doggone traveler, take comfort in your unrefundable works,
These wasted allegories of the mountains and streams which
Breath and mold from her breath and down from her neck,
...