Robert Rorabeck Poems

All I can really say is that my new face
Looks like Picasso got punched,
And that’s okay: a little crooked, like President
D$ck, unsymmetrical, but big,
...

Creak, jigsaw cheek-
My parents make love above this tomb.
My dogs are my cenotaph,
In bankruptcy bloom:
...

A few men have the banner of songs,
And pin wheeled whistles on their lapels,
Something winning up their sleeves
When they walk into the restaurant of
...

I read my own words like masturbating.
Sometimes I am disgusted with myself I
Do it so much,
And I can’t spell, and I seem to repeat
...

I have a couple more experiments
Before I close up shop,
And do the grand finale by myself
With a cork and a pop:
...

It’s sometimes necessary to salt the earth,
But you can’t get back your tears,
Like jewels you thought were real as
You threw them out feed the birds;
...

Without my neighbors,
I will die in a planet of oxygen,
Falling down from the mountains into Silver
City, like an immaculate surgical cut
...

Friday, the sky is falling, the perfect mailman
Over those hills, whistling into another country:
And it is already darkness where she lives,
And in my unstructured poetry where she also lives,
...

A wall of curtains drops into the sea;
It is beautiful, like a bride falling from the rocks,
And we drink whiskey as we look at her,
Though we are afraid she will turn and see us
...

Omnivores in nylon
Strutting at the fair,
Damsels in leaky blouses
Floating through the air
...