Robert Rorabeck Poems

What if I was to become better than a god:
Bride less, what if I rode on Pegasus instead of a carriage,
Or something else that was spilling its
Letters dreamily into the sea: open mouthed like a fish counting
...

If I cannot eat lunch, at least I want to come,
As I listen to the after midnight trains,
And I have eaten all of it that was that the roses were
To perfume,
...

Stories are good for the reasons
That we don’t have ourselves, and that’s why I keep
You near me all day long,
To read by your eyes, even if you are only playing with me,
...

We are here dancing and making love
And it might not even be spring, but I have two
Bicycles
And letters that slip through my house like the finality of
...

Touching the soundless chords of perception,
As airplanes are touching down ever day,
Their bully wheels kissing over the perfect stone lips
Of cemeteries,
...

Paying cash, so I don’t have to sleep alone,
Though the tarmac is still hollowed as the rains come,
And to the sides like pews in a wedding,
The orchards hum to the lions of the wind, and this is a country
...

It feels rich, these foibles of camouflage,
Making love at the races, grasping for one another’s hands
While the butterflies are torn like empty tickets,
As the fabulous tenements burn up to the skies,
...

Slow despotic merry weathers under the tunicates
Of the zoo and her ever soft tributaries:
Glass bottles being blown open like flowers from their
Long necked wounds,
...

You have gone home and crepuscule forebodes and wreathes
The yards,
And I have forgotten how the spelling is of anything good:
And maybe it is because I have a hard time feeling the remains of
...

Your gloves in the room of tilt a whirls, so what
About this arcade inhabiting the things that you’ve made:
It is just as easy for my muses to be breathing in
Colorado,
...