Robert Rorabeck Poems

Burning through the spirits of your ancestors,
Alma,
I’ve begun having feverish dreams of the skinny valleys of
Guerrero Mexico,
...

I met you the Monday after I was robbed at gunpoint:
You were beautiful right away, Alma,
But I could ignore you, because I’d just bought lingerie for
Diana,
...

I have questions to fulfill about you:
How many men have you made love to in your life:
You made love to me on Monday until your husband called,
And you had to leave because you are his
...

The great waterfalls flow and take their clothes off
For men:
The cars stop and gawk, and the tourists grin:
And when I sleep and without motion I move,
...

Your stewardesses are still all here:
Their gunfighters have melted into the slugging rivers,
And someone has to sing:
That I have been up past midnight, but I have been disproved
...

The bottle is emptied as if your milk has dried,
And I have been saying for so long it seems that I have
Become an echo of myself,
While the buses are still turning and returning home,
...

Going down into the shows of green coy,
Going to where I once was just a boy- going to see your
Body,
And the sweets of its round:
...

If they are words they are tumbling through the mystery
Of air-condition and ceiling fans
While we are ruining the world and I didn’t get to see you again
Today because someone was sick:
...

You asked me why I had so many candles, when I don’t
Even know all of the saints,
But I’ve been decorating for you, like the pretty colors under
The naked belly of el arco iris,
...

I hold your broken anklet in my arms,
And I drink wine in the penumbra of my very own
Lights,
And I smell the gold that once wore against the flesh,
...