Robert Rorabeck Poems

I don’t have to worry about it: it will come anyways,
As gravestones arisen over night and the museums and the cemeteries
That talk about them, but not I,
Since I haven’t been doing that great of stuff,
...

Careworn, glossy as worms in the corpse:
Pale dogs smiling over the paler horse, the moon on the
Rising and crowning the hackles,
The savage tenements mortared in unrest-
...

Around in the hairpins of another lonely fiasco:
Fingers moving toward what they will- like car doors and
Unicorns,
Apple pies and the shadows of little girls on the windowsill
...

Up these recesses, the fingerprints who are the hoodlums
Of no criminals:
Just the turpentines of used up Ferris Wheels and the grounds
They grew in:
...

Crawling up to its belly, milky with the lactates
Of spring: it coos, coos as it calls for it again: the hungriness
Spent before any mother like a ball of unwound
Rattlesnakes mewing in the darkness until
...

As a humanity, we all try to get up above the rest:
Piling out substrata of delta-ing ladders towards the shoe polish
Of the next billboards:
And climbing up past the athletes of baseball games, or
...

The problems of green have their own colors:
But they all together only cost five dollars: like the stripes
On the Mexican flag:
And Alma making up her own excuses for whatever she does or
...

In these last hours while the flowers enfold, or in fact
They die into new bodies by morning,
You lay down with him, though tell me that you love me:
You’ve had two children from his loins fitted like fireworks
...

Words as short as miniskirts
Stopped my heart: and we ate and had pancakes,
And then I promised to take you back home with me
To show you my Virgins of Guadalupe;
...

Now it has to be so awful,
Drinking my five dollar wine after all of the fireworks
And birthday cards;
After the night has shown itself to the door,
...