Treasure Island

Robert Rorabeck

(04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

Poems of Robert Rorabeck

To Convince Ourselves

Geoding, broking world, awash with hallucinations
And misspellings,
You've come for me again underneath the swing-set
And moon,
Where the ants are crawling through the
Grass, feeling each blade,
Lingering knife of the stars—
When cars move by during the day in strange séance,
Going to the wishing wells of their usual haunts,

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